Forget to Remember
by simplyxamazing
Summary: A week before Christmas Hermione runs into Draco on a street in Muggle London. Confusion follows when she realizes he is actually being civil, and when Draco gives her a book written in her own handwriting, her whole life changes.
1. A Surprise Encounter

_A few things to know before you read:_

_This story takes place three years after book seven._

_Everything in the book happened except for Ron and Hermione getting together. In this story they have only been together for about a year and a half._

_I think that's it._

**_Enjoy & Review :)_**

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It was an ordinary day in Muggle London. Busy shoppers walked up and down the sidewalk in the nearby shopping district, gazing at window displays and contemplating exactly how to spend the money that was burning a hole in their pocket. This was the third day in a row that Hermione had sat on her balcony watching muggles enter stores and exit an hour or so later carrying numerous bags. It was a week before Christmas, and everyone was rushing to get all of their holiday shopping done. It seemed this particularly applied to young males.

Hermione sighed and stirred the coffee that she held in her hand with a small metal spoon. She knew she had to get something for Ron, she just didn't know what. Since when had shopping for her boyfriend become so difficult? She had everyone else's gift picked out and wrapped months ago.

This particular year she had decided to get everyone a muggle gift. This was out of convenience—she _did_ live in Muggle London after all—but also because she had grown to prefer muggle things over most items that came from the magical world. In fact, for the past two years she had began using less and less magic. She still worked at the Department of Ministries, sure, but she truly used her wand only out of necessity. Hermione couldn't pin point exactly when she stopped enjoying magic, which was strange really, but she brushed it off. Things change, after all.

Hermione sighed once more, got up from her chair, and entered her flat through the glass sliding door. She walked into the kitchen and sat her white coffee mug beside the sink. Then, she walked to the closet and retrieved a long, red coat with numerous black buttons lined down the front. She put it on, buttoned it up, and then walked out her front door into the cool air. The bustle was just how it had been when she was looking down from her balcony, only the people no longer looked like tiny ants. It was more intimidating this way. She walked down the stone steps that led from her house to the street and began thinking about where to go first.

Clothes were always a safe choice, so she walked a block to the right until she reached a men's clothing store. Many middle-aged women were in the store, being helped by gray-haired men in perfectly pressed suits. Hermione shook her head. She wouldn't find anything for Ron in there.

Across the street was an electronics store, and Hermione figured it couldn't hurt to have a look. Ron had always been fascinated by muggle electronics. She waited until traffic was clear, and then crossed the street quickly. As she was stepping onto the sidewalk in front of the store, the toe of her right shoe scuffed against the top of the curb. Hermione stumbled forward and knocked into a passerby.

"I am so sorry!" she said, though her voice was muffled by the hair that was currently covering her face. It was one of the few moments when she actually liked her hair, for it covered the blush that crept over her cheeks.

"Are you okay?" a male voice answered. The voice was familiar, but not enough for her to instantly recognize who it was. She flipped her hair out of her face and found herself staring at a pale face with blonde hair and grey eyes.

"Hermione?" The man asked, surprising her so much that her eyes widened. It had to be Draco Malfoy, but he had just used her first name. Not Mudblood, not Granger, but _Hermione_. Not only that, but he looked genuinely happy to see her. Something incredibly strange was going on.

"Did you just call me Hermione?" she asked incredulously. Draco smirked.

"That is your name, is it not?" he drawled.

"Well, yes, but…" she trailed off. It seemed she didn't know what to say to him. She hadn't seen him since the war had ended, and then they had been the farthest thing from being on good terms. What had changed?

"Are you imperioused?" she blurted out suddenly. His smirk turned into the faintest of smiles.

"Not that I'm aware of," he said.

Hermione stared at him for a moment and then brushed past him and headed toward the entrance of the store.

"I have a lot of Christmas shopping to do," she called as politely as she could behind her. Whatever Malfoy was doing, she was sure it was some trick, and she refused to fall for it. The further away he was, the better she felt.

She walked into the store and headed for the iPod nanos. When she stopped walking she noticed that he had followed her. What was his problem? Was it not enough that he had made her years in school miserable?

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, spinning around to face him.

"Christmas presents, huh?" he asked, ignoring her questions. "Anyone in particular?"

Hermione picked up an orange iPod and pretended to be incredibly interested in the blank screen.

"Ron, if you must know," she answered. Draco scoffed.

"Are you and the weasel dating now?" he asked in mocking voice. "How cute."

Hermione sat the iPod down and looked up at him.

"May I ask why you're following me?" she asked, annoyed.

Draco ran his index finger down the side of the iPod she had just sat down.

"Who said I was?" he asked. "Maybe I wanted to buy…" he looked at the sign above the display, "an iPod for someone special."

Hermione held back a scoff.

"You hate muggle things," she said pointedly. "Just like you hate muggles and muggle-borns."

Draco looked up at her.

"Not all of them," he muttered.

This day was getting a little too strange for Hermione. She wanted to ask 'who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?', but she didn't. She was still convinced this was some sort of ploy.

"Right," she said clearing her throat. "Well, I don't see anything Ron will like, I better check somewhere else."

She walked quickly back to the sidewalk, and began walking to her left. She glanced behind her, but Draco wasn't there. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and she continued down the street, looking in stores for anything that looked like Ron. She passed twenty-eight buildings (yes, she counted) before giving up. Maybe today just wasn't the right day for shopping. Tomorrow would be better, she was sure of it.

She trudged back to her flat—for her feet were tired from all the walking—and walked up the stone steps. She had the strangest feeling of being watched and she turned around to see if anyone was staring at her. Across the road, a pale, blonde man was walking quickly around the corner. Hermione noted that he was in too much of a hurry to be just another holiday shopper.


	2. The Games We Play

The following day, Hermione emulated her routine from the day before. She had a cup of coffee (two sugars, no cream) on her balcony, and watched as the tiny people walked by. She was glad she had taken off the week before Christmas, because she rather enjoyed relaxing. It was something she rarely had the opportunity to do. However, she couldn't be completely relaxed because she still had yet to find a gift for Ron. She felt like the world's worst girlfriend.

As she was rinsing out her coffee cup, there was a knock at the door. It was not even ten o' clock yet, so she knew for a fact it wouldn't be Ron or Ginny. Neither of them got up before noon if they didn't have to. There was a possibility it was Harry, but she doubted it. He was always quite busy.

Hermione placed the cup in the sink and walked to the door. She unlocked the lock on the door handle and then the deadbolt before opening it. Draco Malfoy stood on her doorstep wearing a black sweater and jeans. His hair fell loosely in his pale face.

So she hadn't been imagining the fact that he had followed her home yesterday. At least she knew she wasn't crazy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked accusingly. Draco shrugged.

"I thought I could help you find a gift for the weasel," he told her. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"And why would you want to do that?" she asked him.

Draco shoved his hands angrily in his pockets.

"Look, I can leave if you want," he told her, rather aggravated. "I just figured you might want a bloke's opinion."

He had a point, Hermione realized. Though she doubted Draco Malfoy shared even the remote same taste as Ron.

"Fine," Hermione told him, surprising him and herself. "You can come along."

She grabbed her coat and purse and walked out onto the steps. As she locked the door, Draco walked down to the street. Hermione briefly wondered if she should've brought her wand, just in case, but brushed the thought off. Muggles defended themselves just fine without wands—well, most of the time anyway.

Draco began walking down the street to the right, and Hermione had to hurry to catch up with him.

"Where are you going?" she asked, but he didn't reply. She continued following him, a scowl on her face until he suddenly stopped. She caught herself right before slamming into the back of him.

He had stopped in front of a huge store with many gaming consoles, controllers, accessories, and games.

"A gaming store?" she asked him. Draco shrugged.

"Don't think the weasel can handle playing a simple Muggle video game?" he asked. "Because I have to say I agree with you." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Draco stopped her. "However, according to Muggles, all dim-witted blokes enjoy wasting their time playing."

"How do you even know about Muggle video games?" Hermione asked. It was a widely known fact that Draco Malfoy hated everything that was made, or involved, Muggles. In fact, Hermione was surprised he was willingly currently in close proximately to a) her and b) hundreds of Muggles.

"When you've spent over six months around Muggles, you pick up on some things," Draco muttered.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and began to question Draco about this statement, but he walked into the store.

"Pick something," he told her. "I haven't got all day."

Hermione huffed and walked into the store, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of things she knew nothing about.

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Hermione walked out of the store an hour later, two large bags in hand.

"Are you done?" Draco asked, annoyed, from a nearby bench.

"Quite," Hermione replied.

"Good," Draco said. "There's a café across the street. We're eating there."

He wanted to eat lunch with her? That was something she never expected. Actually, it was one of the very last things she expected. Of course, him helping her find a gift for Ron was also probably on the top of her list of unexpected things.

She began feeling somewhat like a dog, following him around everywhere. She wondered why she was doing it. It wasn't as if she actually wanted his company. Maybe it was her curiosity about his behavior that compelled her to stay near to him. That's what she told herself anyway.

They sat down at a table for two, and the hostess placed menus in front of them. Hermione noticed the girl stalled, presumably waiting for Draco to make a move. She smiled and twirled her hair, but Draco paid little attention. Hermione thought that was a little strange. Usually Draco would've reveled in the attention. When the hostess left, Hermione stared at Draco.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. Draco remained staring down at his menu, feigning incredible concentration Hermione knew he wasn't using.

"Doing what?" he asked shortly.

"Being nice to me, helping me find a gift for Ron, eating lunch with me—take your pick," she replied. "This isn't the Draco Malfoy I know."

Draco scoffed and looked up at her.

"Yeah," he said, his voice carrying a slight air of hurt, "it is." He closed the menu and Hermione jumped as he slammed his fist on the table. "Which is exactly the point."

"I don't understand," Hermione whispered, beginning to become afraid. Draco looked livid—his eyes had turned an exceptionally dark shade of gray.

"Of course you don't," Draco muttered. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a small, brown leather book. "Here," he told her, tossing it on her side of the table. It landed with a thud on the tablecloth in front of her. "My father's dead by the way," he said as he began standing up. "It happened a little over six months ago."

He looked at her confused face for a moment, and then walked out. Hermione remained unmoving, staring at the book he gave her.

She ran her hand over the cover, feeling the texture of the leather beneath her fingertips. She began cautiously flipping through the pages and gasped. The entire book was handwritten, not printed. Furthermore, the elegant handwriting was entirely too familiar to Hermione. She realized all too quickly that it was, in fact, her own.

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**_review because it makes me happy :)_**


	3. Absent Memories

Hermione sat cross-legged on her bed, staring down at the book in front of her. She wasn't so sure she wanted to read it. Part of her thought that there was a good possibility it was cursed. However, she had already touched it and flipped through the pages, and nothing had happened. Besides, the book didn't even seem magical. It looked just like one of the Muggle diaries she kept when she was younger. Hermione sighed. She couldn't keep stalling—she had to read it sooner or later. Grudgingly, she picked it up gingerly with both hands and then turned to the first page.

_I hope you're reading this soon after I—or rather, you—wrote it. I hope he didn't wait too long. I know you're probably confused, and have already figured out that it is you who wrote this book. You don't remember writing it though, because you aren't supposed to. That was all part of the plan._

_I guess I should start from the beginning, since that's where stories usually start. Remember when I say I, it refers to you as well. You are the future Hermione Granger._

_After the war, Ron and Harry went on to become Aurors—hopefully, you still remember this fact. You should also remember going back to Hogwarts to complete your 7__th__ year. What I'm hoping you haven't remembered is who your potions professor was._

Hermione scoffed. How could she forget who her potions professor was? She spent an entire year in that class, and that was only three years ago. She remembered perfectly Ginny sitting beside her, the black cauldron that usually sat in front of them, the dark green chalkboard in front of the room, and the exact quill she used.

Hermione dropped the book softly on her bed. She could see a figure in her memory—a hazy outline of a person. But, she could remember nothing about them. She didn't even know if the professor had been a man or woman. Why had that never bothered her before? The truth was, she hadn't even thought about it until now.

Hermione picked the book back up, curious—and scared—of what it would say.

_The first day he was late—something which bothered me quite a bit. After a few moments of waiting, he literally threw open the door and walked in. It was Draco Malfoy, who happened to be the last person I expected or wanted to see. I walked out of his class that day, and went to find McGonagall. What I eventually learned was that it was Dumbledore's wish for Draco to teach at Hogwarts. When I went back to class, he gave me detention. I was furious, but I showed up at eight o' clock sharp. It was absolutely miserable. However, it wasn't even close to being my last detention._

_Draco gave me detention for the first half of the year, until McGonagall finally protested. But by then, I looked forward to my detentions. Somewhere along the line I fell in love with him—and him with me. We kept our relationship a secret, but I had to tell someone. One day I confided in Ginny, who had pretty much already figured it out. She was also, surprisingly, completely supportive._

_One night, I…spent the night with Draco. I think it was the happiest moment of my life. Then, two weeks later, reality came crashing down on me when I discovered that I was pregnant._

_The day I decided to tell him, he told me his father was out of Azkaban. Lucius was looking for him; he wanted Draco to re-join the remaining Death Eaters to help resurrect Voldemort and restore him to power._

_I begged Draco to stay, but he wouldn't. I think he wanted to, but the fear of disappointing his father was greater than his love for me. I wonder if I should've told him about the baby. I wonder if that would've changed his mind._

_He disapparated and left me crying on the bed in his room. I fell asleep crying, and woke up with a broken heart and a plan. I didn't want to feel the pain he had given me, and I still don't think I should._

_I spent the remainder of my pregnancy concocting a potion that would make me forget Draco as I had known him for the past year. Ginny never left my side, though she didn't approve of what I was doing. She covered for me, and no one else ever knew I was pregnant._

_I had the baby—a boy—and then I took him to my parents, explaining everything that I was about to do. They didn't understand, but agreed to find someone in the family to look after him. My only request was that they call him Leo._

_Afterward, I went to Ginny's flat, which is where I sit now. I have charmed this book so that I am the only one who can read it. If anyone else tries, they will see only blank pages. I will send it to Draco along with a letter explaining only that I will no longer remember him, and if he decides to return to me, he will require the aid of this book._

_After sending it, I will drink the potion. Then, I suppose you know the rest._

Hermione stared at the last page in shock. She couldn't comprehend all of the information she had just been given. Her and _Draco Malfoy_ had once been in love? They had a son? And the biggest question of all—Ginny knew everything and had never even given the slightest hint? This was too crazy to believe.

Yet, it _was_ her handwriting and it _was_ rather odd she couldn't recall who her potions professor was. But, Draco Malfoy? Really? How did they go from hating each other to being in love? Did he really mean that much to her that she went and semi-obliviated herself?

Hermione didn't like not knowing things. She needed answers and the only people that could give them to her were her boyfriend's sister and the father of her child. Unfortunately, she only knew where one of them was.

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_**don't you just love cliffhangers?**_

_**By the way, once I finish this story I'm most likely going to write a prequel about how Hermione and Draco fell in love at Hogwarts. If I get good feedback on this story, that is.**_

_**review :)  
**_


	4. Her Saving Grace

Ginny jumped as a loud crack sounded and Hermione appeared in her living room.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, obviously glad to see her best friend. Hermione instantly felt guilty that she hadn't visited Ginny in over a month. Ginny stood up from the couch where she was reading the Daily Prophet and hugged Hermione, who half-heartedly hugged her back.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked when they broke away. Hermione sighed and sat on the couch.

"I erased a whole part of my life, that's what's wrong," Hermione said. Ginny looked confused for a moment, but then her face formed an expression of realization.

"He found you," Ginny whispered. She sat beside her friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You read the book?" she asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question.

"How could I—" Hermione paused and tried to stop the tears that she felt were coming. She swallowed hard. "How could I do that? How could I make myself forget I had a _son_?"

Ginny shook her head sympathetically.

"Believe it or not," she said, "You loved Malfoy. I've never seen you as happy as you were when you were with him."

A single tear slid down Hermione's cheek and she stood up angrily.

"How could you let me take the potion?" she yelled. "You're supposed to be my friend!"

"Don't you think I tried to stop you?" Ginny yelled back. "This wasn't what I wanted for you!"

Hermione remained silent and livid as tears ran down her face. "But this is where we are," Ginny told her. "And it's time to face what you couldn't before."

Hermione bit her lip.

"It's just…" she said. "I can't even imagine loving him. He's Draco Malfoy for Merlin's sake!" She sighed. "And to have a child with him, it just seems…"

"Impossible?" Ginny offered. Hermione nodded. "You changed him," Ginny told her. "He's not—or at least he wasn't—the same boy you remember."

"So what do I do now?" Hermione asked. Her tears had subsided and she walked back over to the couch and sat down. She rested her head in her hands while Ginny stood up and walked into another room. When she returned, Hermione had not moved.

"Your parents sent Leo to live with your aunt," she told Hermione, who looked up when she heard Ginny's voice. "They send me pictures and letters about how he's doing." She laid a stack of papers on Hermione's lap.

"Ginny…" Hermione breathed. Ginny shook her head.

"You would've done the same thing for me."

Hermione smiled slightly and sifted through the papers, looking only for pictures. The first one she came to was a small boy laughing in what looked like a backyard complete with a swing set. Hermione gasped as she recognized her deep brown eyes in his. It shocked her even more when she noticed the white blond hair on his head.

"He looks just like Draco," Hermione whispered. Ginny nodded.

"With the exception of his eyes," she said. "And thank Merlin he didn't inherit that insufferable smirk."

Hermione smiled.

"He's beautiful," she said. Ginny smiled at her.

"Yes," she said, "he is."

Hermione ran her fingers softly over the photograph.

"Why would I ever want to forget him?" she wondered aloud.

"Draco broke your heart," Ginny told her. "You wanted nothing to do with anything that reminded you of him."

Hermione laid the photograph beside her.

"There has to be a way to restore my memories," she said, but Ginny shook her head.

"You made the potion so that only you could do that, and _without_ magic."

"Then how—?" Hermione asked. Ginny shrugged apologetically.

"You wouldn't tell me."

"Great," Hermione muttered. She gestured to the photograph.

"Can I…" She paused. "See him?" Ginny smiled.

"Of course!" she said. "But, I'll need to let your parents and aunt know first. Could we possibly go tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded. She needed a night of sleep to process everything anyway.

"See you at noon?" Hermione questioned.

"You know me well," Ginny responded. Hermione smiled and then picked up the stack of papers.

"Bye," she said and then disapparated back to her flat.

She stood in her bedroom, clutching the papers tightly in her hand. She sat them down on the bed and then stared for a moment before grabbing the letter on the bottom of the stack.

_Ginny,_

_I would just like to thank you for taking an interest in our daughter's son. I am sure that once she decides to remember him, she will be eternally grateful. I do not understand the world of magic that you live in, but I do understand what a broken heart feels like. It pains me to know that Hermione had to go through this. It saddens me even more to think that she felt that the only way out was to erase her memories. I do hope one day that Draco returns, so that Leo can be returned to his rightful parents. But for now, my sister, Theresa, will be taking care of him. I have explained little to her, for she knows nothing of witches and wizards. However, I believe she will take very good care of Leo. I will be in touch._

_Sincerely,_

_Mrs. Diane Granger_

Hermione vaguely remembered visiting her Aunt Theresa when she was younger, and then realized with a stabbing pain that she had only been home once or twice since she got out of school. When had she made herself so isolated?

This time, Hermione reached for the letter on top and began reading. It was, apparently, the letter that went with the photograph Hermione had seen earlier.

_Dearest Ginny,_

_Tom and I went to visit Theresa and Leo today. He is learning so fast. Theresa has taught him to say Grandma and Grandpa. It seems that he is going to have the brain of our Hermione. However, according to Theresa, he does have quite a temper. I'm guessing he received that trait from his father._

_I keep hoping Hermione will remember before Leo becomes too old. I want him to know his mother. My sister has been asking many questions lately, ones of which I cannot answer. She knows he is Hermione's, but doesn't understand why she— or us for that matter—can't take care of him. I just wish this whole ordeal was over._

_Love,_

_Diane_

Hermione sat the letter back on top and then walked over to her bedroom window. She pushed it open and then yelled,

"Mozart!"

A small, dark brown owl immediately flew over to the window sill from a nearby tree. She petted it and then walked over to her bedside table. She then proceeded to grab a quill and a piece of parchment out of the drawer. Hermione scribbled a quick note, folded it, and then walked back over to the owl. It took the letter in it's beak.

"Take this to Draco Malfoy," she whispered and the owl made a small chirping noise before flying off.

Hermione closed the window and then climbed in her bed, without even thinking to change her clothes. She felt physically and emotionally exhausted and agreed completely with her mother. _If only things were different,_ she thought before drifting off to sleep.

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**_so this wasn't exactly my favorite chapter, but it was definitely a necessary one._**

**_next chapter will have some more Draco-Hermione interaction finally. That's my favorite to write :)_**

**_review please  
_**


	5. His Reasons

Hermione paced in front of the large grandfather clock that sat in the corner of her living room. The clock said it was 11:45 and she had asked Draco to be there at 11:30. Her palms had begun to sweat and she had a million questions flying through her head. _What if Mozart couldn't find him? What if he decided not to come? What if something happened to him?_ She shook her head in an attempt to push the thoughts away. _Breathe, Hermione, _she told herself, _he'll be here._

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. She quickly walked over to the door and pulled it open.

"You're late," she said crossly. Draco gave her his usual smirk and shrugged.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" he drawled. Hermione rolled her eyes and gestured for him to come in. He did so, and then removed his black suede jacket, revealing a gray, long sleeve v-neck shirt underneath. He folded his jacket over his arm as he walked into the living room, observing the kitchen and dining room as he walked by. Hermione followed him and immediately felt self-conscious. For some strange reason she wanted him to approve of the place where she lived.

Draco sat down on her white couch and leaned back, making himself comfortable.

"Nice clock," he said, nodding towards the grandfather clock she had been staring at earlier. Hermione couldn't tell if he was serious or not, so she said nothing. She walked over and stood in front of him.

"Why are you here?" she asked. Draco looked at her like she was some insane person. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"You invited me," he stated.

"Not **here** here_," _Hermione said and then sighed in an agitated manner. "Why did you come back?"

"You remember?" Draco asked and he leaned forward slightly. Hermione noticed his eyes lit up for a fraction of a second as he spoke. Hermione shook her head.

"No," she replied and Draco returned to his previous position. "But I know everything that happened." Draco's eyes flickered away from her and he stared out towards the balcony. "Why'd you come back?" she repeated. Draco turned his head back toward her.

"My father died," he stated, as if that explained everything. In Hermione's opinion, it explained nothing.

"So that's it?" Hermione asked. "You're father gets himself killed and suddenly you're ready not to be a Death Eater anymore?"

Draco's left hand clenched into a fist.

"I didn't want to be a Death Eater in the first place. You know that." He said through clenched teeth.

"Do I?" Hermione asked. When they were in school it seemed like the only thing Draco had ever wanted.

Draco shook his head.

"No, I guess not," he replied sharply. "But you did before you went and oblivated yourself."

"Because you left me!" Hermione snapped at him. Draco stood up.

"You don't even remember me!" Draco yelled at her. "So you have absolutely no right to be mad at me!"

"I have every right!" Hermione said, shoving him hard in the chest. He stumbled backwards slightly. "I lost a year of my life because of you!" Tears began to form in her eyes.

"You don't know anything," Draco muttered darkly. He stood up and began walking toward the door, but stopped halfway and turned around.

"You want to know why I came back?" he asked her. Hermione bit her lip to keep from crying. "Because there wasn't a day that went by when I didn't think about how insufferable you are, and how wrong it is, but how for some reason for me, there is only you." He paused. "Because as much pain as my leaving caused you, it caused me a hell of a lot worse." He took a step toward her. "Because you went two years not knowing or feeling a thing, and I went two years wishing I was dead."

Hermione stared down at the floor as a single tear fell.

"I—" she started, but discovered that she could not find the right words. She wanted to remember—wanted it so bad it hurt—but she just couldn't. She still couldn't comprehend falling in love with him. He wasn't the same Draco Malfoy she had known as a girl, she knew that now, but he was still Draco Malfoy. He had called her mudblood many times, had made her cry, and had even caused her to punch him in the face. They were enemies. They weren't supposed to fall in love.

She watched as he turned back around, but just as he began walking a loud crack sounded and Ginny appeared in the room between them.

"Yes, I know, it's a miracle that I'm earl—" her eyes went from Hermione to Draco and back again. "—ly," She finished. Draco had turned around and was now looking at Ginny.

"Weasley?" he asked.

"Nice to see you're still alive, Malfoy," she told him. "Sort of," she added as an after thought.

"I was just leaving," Draco said, scowling. He resumed his earlier walk toward the door.

"Wait," Hermione said softly. He paused just as he was reaching for the door knob and turned around impatiently.

"Ginny and I are going to see…" she trailed off. "Someone," she amended quickly. "You should come."

Ginny's eyes widened and she turned toward Hermione.

"Are you sure about this?" she whispered. Hermione nodded. She felt like she owed it to Draco to tell him the whole truth. She knew how it felt to be kept in the dark, and she couldn't say that she rather enjoyed it. Besides, Leo was Draco's son as well. Their son deserved to have both his mother and his father.

"And who is this someone?" Draco asked. He didn't seem to enjoy the idea of going anywhere with them at the particular moment. Hermione stalled, unable to tell him the truth. She felt like she could show him easier than she could tell him.

"Family," Ginny answered quickly. "Hermione's—not mine," she amended when she saw the disgusted look on Draco's face at the mere mention of spending time with Weasleys.

"And why would I want to go with you?" Draco drawled.

"Please," Hermione said.

Draco stared at her for a moment. His gray eyes bore into hers, and she had to look away. Finally, Draco nodded.

"Fine," he said shortly.

"We're doing side-along apparation," Ginny said. "So hold on to Hermione."

Hermione placed her hand on Ginny's arm, but Draco just looked at her.

"If we're visiting _Hermione's_ family, why are you the one apparating?" he asked. Hermione's heart began to beat faster as she realized that there was no logical answer besides the truth to his question.

"Oh, shut-up and grab her arm," Ginny snapped. Draco stalled for a moment, but then placed his hand on Hermione's arm. As he did, Ginny flicked her wand and the image of Hermione's flat disappeared in a swirl of bright colors.

The three of them appeared on the door step of a modest white house with navy blue shutters. Hermione vaguely remembered visiting the house when she was younger. The only thing she could remember clearly was the large backyard where she used to sit and read while her cousins played.

"It's a muggle house," Draco said, confused.

"Yes," Hermione breathed.

Ginny glanced at the two of them. Draco looked like he regretted grabbing Hermione's arm and Hermione looked like she had been petrified.

"Well," Ginny said, clearing her throat, "Are you going to knock, or should I?"

Hermione made no attempt to answer or move. She was too busy imagining what was going to happen once they walked through the door. Too many of the senarios ended badly; she had half a mind to turn back around.

Draco shrugged.

"Not my family," he replied carelessly.

Ginny rolled her eyes and knocked on the door. They waited a few seconds before the door swung open, revealing a petite woman wearing a tan skirt and a light blue buttoned-up blouse. She had her auburn hair placed in a bun on top of her head.

"Can I help you?" she asked, scanning the three of them. Her eyes rested on Hermione, who was currently staring down at her feet.

"Hermione?" she questioned, but Hermione didn't look up. Her aunt then glanced at Draco, looking him up and down. Draco scowled as she observed him. Her gaze eventually landed on his platinum blond hair.

"Oh," she stated, nodding. She sighed and took a step back. "Come in," she told them, gesturing inside. "You'll catch a cold out there."

* * *

**_I just want to say thank you to all my reviewers. You have been great! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)_**


	6. Their son

"Leo's playing in his room," Hermione's aunt told the three people who currently occupied her couch. Hermione sat in the middle, her left leg touching Ginny's right, and her right leg touching Draco's left. The couch was apparently not made to fit three people; Hermione felt a little more than slightly claustrophobic. "I can call him if you like," Theresa said, addressing Hermione. Hermione nodded shyly and shifted nervously on the couch.

"Leo!" her aunt called, but the toddler did not appear. Theresa sighed. "He's going through his terrible twos," she explained apologetically.

Hermione looked down at her hands that she had earlier folded neatly in her lap. She felt like it should've been her forced to deal with his terrible twos, not her aunt.

"Leo Draconius!" Theresa yelled sternly, and got up from her chair. Draco, whose expression had been distant yet scrutinizing the entire time, instantly looked at Hermione. However, Hermione was just as clueless as he was. She didn't remember reading anything about Leo's middle name being Draconius. She watched as her aunt walked out of the room and then noticed that Ginny had guiltily turned and looked the other way.

"Ginny?" Hermione whispered. Ginny slowly turned her head towards Hermione, smiling faintly.

"Sorry?" she offered weakly. "I thought that he should have some way of knowing his father," she whispered, low enough so that Draco couldn't hear.

"Sorry about that," Hermione's aunt said as she walked into the room. She was holding the hand of a little boy that came up to her mid-thigh. Hermione thought that Leo was more beautiful in person than in any of the photographs she had seen. She had never felt the instant love that she felt for him before. It was literally as if her heart had expanded and warmed in her chest. The emotion--the love--coursing through her made her happy and sad at the same time. She had missed out on two years of this little boy's life, and on two years of the greatest love she would ever feel.

"Mommy?" Leo asked, pointing at Hermione. Hermione's eyes widened in shock, but she reveled in the feeling the simple word gave her. Draco stood up quickly.

"He's your son?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione smiled weakly.

"Yes," she whispered.

"And I'm guessing the father isn't the weasel?" he asked, though it was more of a statement.

"What gave that one away?" Ginny asked him, rolling her eyes. If it had been any other moment than this particular one, Draco would've scowled at her. As it was, all he could do was stare at the child who was watching the three unfamiliar people with intense curiosity.

"It all makes sense now," Draco muttered, sitting back down. He seemed to be in a daze. Hermione was going to question him on his statement, but her aunt spoke first.

"Hermione, can I talk to you in private?" she asked. Hermione nodded and stood up. As she passed Leo, she lightly touched his hair with her fingertips. It was soft, just as she expected it would be. She followed her aunt as she walked out of the living room and into the kitchen.

"You didn't tell the father that you were pregnant?" she asked. Hermione bit her lip.

"I didn't tell myself," she muttered. Theresa looked at her questioningly.

"I don't know what you're doing here exactly, but I know that for the past two years Leo has been without a mother or father. I was given no explanation, only that you could return at any moment. I treated Leo as if he was my own son, but never once did I pretend to be his mother. I showed him pictures of you everyday, hoping that you would return before it was too late," she sighed. "I don't know what happened to you, but the Hermione I used to know would never abandon a child for her own selfish reasons."

Hermione guiltily looked down. She felt like she was a young child being scolded, rather than the woman she had turned into. Her aunt didn't understand the situation, but really, neither did she.

They heard small giggles from the living room and crept around the corner, peeking in. Draco was bouncing Leo on his knee while Ginny was making faces at him. Leo had his small little hand wrapped around Draco's left index finger. Hermione smiled at them. It looked so…natural. With the two of them so close together, their similarities showed in an even greater detail. There was no question in Hermione's mind that her son was Draco's. None at all.

"I'm not ready to take him right now," Hermione said, turning around to face her aunt. "But I do want my son back. I want to be given a chance to be his mother."

"And will he have a father too?" Theresa asked, looking at Draco. Hermione sighed.

"It's…complicated," she said. "…Maybe."

Theresa nodded.

"I understand you need to make the necessary preparations. However, I'm not just going to hand Leo over. You have to promise me that you will never abandon him again," she told her solemnly.

Hermione nodded.

"I don't understand why I did in the first place," she whispered.

"You were young," Theresa told her. "The young often make mistakes."

Hermione smiled sadly and walked back into the living room. She sat beside Draco who still held Leo on his knee. Leo cooed at Hermione and then reached out, touching her hair. She caught his hand gently in her own.

"Mommy," Leo said and Hermione nodded, tears in her eyes. She blinked rapidly and then let go of his hand and stood up.

"We should go," she told Draco and Ginny. "We have a lot to do."

Draco placed Leo back on the floor and he and Ginny stood up. Draco ruffled Leo's hair and Hermione leaned down to place a kiss on the top of his head.

"We'll be back soon," she whispered. "Be a good boy."

"Kay," Leo said happily. "Bye-bye." He opened and closed his hand as if waving. Hermione smiled and Draco smirked at their son.

"Bye, Leo," Ginny said as Hermione and Draco began walking out of the living room.

"Thank you," Hermione told her aunt as they walked towards the door. "For everything."

Her aunt nodded and watched as they walked out the door. When they got outside, Draco turned to Hermione.

"You forgot him too, didn't you?" Draco asked. "Since he was a part of me."

Hermione looked away from him.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I know him now."

She raised her wand and disapparated back to her flat, leaving Draco staring at the place where she had been.

"You need to tell her," Ginny told Draco once Hermione had disappeared.

"Tell her what?" Draco asked darkly.

"Whatever it is you haven't been telling her," Ginny replied.

"And why do you think I haven't been telling her something?" Draco asked defensively.

"It's in your eyes," Ginny stated simply.

"Oh, so now you can suddenly read people?" Draco asked, scoffing.

"No," Ginny replied. "But I recognize fear when I see it."

She got out her wand and held it tightly in her hand.

"Keeping something from her isn't the way to win her back," she said before disapparating.

Draco sighed, nodded, and then ran his fingers through his hair before following the two witches back to Hermione's flat.

* * *

**_This was a pretty quick update, but i won't be able to write for a few days, so I went ahead and wrote a new chapter._**

**_review please :)  
_**


	7. His Secret

Hermione was walking in and out of every room of her flat when Draco appeared in her living room. Ginny was watching her, a worried expression on her face. Hermione passed the two of them muttering something under her breath about not having enough space for a play room and library.

"Hermione!" Ginny said. "Snap out of it!"

But Hermione could do no such thing. She was convinced that she had entirely too much to do to prepare for Leo, and she was afraid that she would never get it done. Besides, her flat really _was_ too small for her and Leo to live in comfortably. She needed to buy a bed, toys, food, and of course she had to child-proof the house. There was so much to do that Hermione's head began hurting. She stopped walking in and out of rooms and instead began pacing.

"Hermione," Draco said smoothly. "Relax."

Hermione instantly froze. She still wasn't used to him calling by her first name, and it always made her stop. She didn't know what it was, but she instantly felt calm.

"This is crazy," she muttered, shaking her head. "I have a son."

"At least he knows who you are," Draco told her. "You made it seem like I abandoned him." He sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner. "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" he asked her angrily, though he knew she didn't know the answer.

"Would you have stayed if she did?" Ginny asked him. It was the question Hermione had wondered as well. Draco dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I…" he said, "Don't know." He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe."

"What a predicament we got ourselves into," Hermione said, failing miserably to lighten the mood. Draco put his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. Draco looked up at Ginny who nodded, urging him to answer her truthfully.

"There's something I haven't been telling you," he said. Hermione looked at him fearfully. She wasn't so sure she wanted to hear what he was about to say. She could imagine numerous things he could be keeping from her, and none of them were good.

"Seven months after I left, my father told me he had visited a seer who told him of a prophecy," Draco began. "The prophecy said that within the next year a Muggle-born would give birth to a boy whose father was pure-blood. It said that the boy would become the most powerful wizard the world had ever seen—even more powerful than the Dark Lord. However, he would be born on the side of good and would banish the prejudice against Muggles, Muggle-borns, and half-bloods—including the remaining Death Eaters—from the world. Forever." Draco paused. "It became my father and his followers' mission to find the boy and kill him."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Leo…?" she questioned breathlessly. Draco didn't reply. Instead, he continued his story.

"They must have killed at least eight boys that fit the description before my father discovered a record of Leo's birth."

Hermione looked fearfully at Ginny.

"I knew I shouldn't have taken you to a Muggle hospital," Ginny whispered. "I just thought no one would think to look for you there."

Hermione shook her head.

"It's not your fault," she told Ginny. "You did what was best at the time."

Hermione turned back to Draco whose eyes had become dark and distant.

"Go on," she urged. Draco leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. He stared straight ahead at the wall and clenched his fist.

"My father came here once, and saw you with the weasel. He assumed the boy was his—as did I when he told me of how…" Draco took a deep breath, "Comfortable the two of you looked." Draco unclenched his fist.

"At that moment, I wanted the boy dead. So much, I almost asked my father to be given the task."

Hermione swallowed hard.

"But I didn't," Draco said. "Then the night came, and he picked up his wand in preparation of his search for your son."

Hermione could picture Lucius's face, determined to kill her son. She shivered at the image.

"I don't know what happened," Draco said. "One moment I was perfectly fine with the boy being dead, and the next, I just kept thinking that he was _yours_. And I couldn't do that to you—anyone but you," Draco paused and a silence came over the room. Hermione knew there was more, but didn't want to rush him. "I—" Draco said, and then sighed. "Killed him. I killed my own father to protect a boy that wasn't even mine."

"Except he is," Hermione whispered. Draco continued staring straight ahead.

"The remaining Death Eaters have been following me—tracking me—since that day. I think I lost them, but I can't be sure," he said. "I'm sure their top priority is still to kill Leo. Killing me would just be a bonus—something to celebrate."

"Do you think they followed you to Theresa's?" Hermione asked. Draco shook his head.

"No," he told her. "But that doesn't mean that they still won't track me there."

Hermione stood up.

"We have to get Leo," she said. Draco shook his head.

"We can't take them on our own," he said.

"But he's my son!" Hermione protested. Draco stood up beside her.

"He's mine too, dammit!" he told her, clenching his fist. He effortlessly towered over her. "Don't you think I want to protect him?" Hermione dropped her gaze. "But I lived with these men for over a year, and if we face them, we'll all die—including Leo."

Hermione bit her lip, knowing that Draco would not like what she was planning to say next.

"Then we'll ask Harry and Ron for their help," she whispered. As suspected, Draco looked disgusted.

"I do not want Potter or the weasel's help," he snapped.

"No," Hermione agreed. "But I do." Draco looked absolutely livid. "They're the best Aurors at the ministry," Hermione explained. "We need them."

Draco scoffed.

"We all know how much you need the weasel," he muttered darkly. Hermione contemplated smacking him, but opted for the ignore tactic instead.

"I'm going to Ron's," she said, turning to Ginny. "Go get Harry and meet us there," Ginny nodded and disapparated with a sharp crack.

"Us?" Draco asked, scoffing. "You're mad."

"They can help," Hermione said, trying to reason with him.

"And what makes you think they want to help protect the son of a Death Eater?" Draco asked, raising the left sleeve of his shirt to reveal a faded Dark Mark. Hermione stared at it. Normally, the sight would bring her fear, but she only felt pity. She reached over and pulled his sleeve back down.

"Because he's my son too," Hermione explained softly. "And they are my best friend and boyfriend." Draco cringed slightly at the word she used to describe Ron.

"You have a lot of faith in them," he told her darkly. Hermione nodded as her eyes pleaded with him to trust her.

"Fine," Draco said shortly, grabbing Hermione's wrist. "Let's go."

Hermione bit her lip, raised her wand, and then the two of them disappeared from Hermione's flat. What would happen next was unclear to her. She just hoped Ron and Harry would understand.

* * *

_**the next chapter should be interesting...**_

_**review :)  
**_


	8. The Inevitable Truth

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Draco muttered as he stood beside Hermione in what looked like an incredibly unkempt living room. Everything was a shade of brown; the couch, the wooden floors, the end table. Even the lamp that sat on top of the end table carried a light brown hue. There were a few splashes of crimson randomly thrown in—the pillows that currently sat in front of the couch, for example. It reminded Draco all too much of the person he was about to see.

"Ron!" Hermione called. She hoped that he would be happy to see her. Too much of her felt guilty for not seeing him for the past four days. He really didn't deserve her. Ron had treated her so well the past year and a half.

"Hermione?" Ron answered back. He appeared in the living room wearing black sweatpants and a crimson sweater. "Where have you—" he stopped when he noticed Draco standing beside her scowling, but also looking halfway pleased with himself. "What the bloody hell is he doing here?" Ron asked as his ears began to turn a deep shade of red. "Shouldn't he be dead or in Azkaban by now?"

Hermione knew he wouldn't take Draco's presence well, but had hoped for a little more sympathy. When it came to a Malfoy, however, Ron completely lost himself in anger.

"Sorry to disappoint you weasel," Draco drawled. "But I have no intention of ending up either way."

Ron clenched his fists, but Hermione walked towards him and placed her hand on his arm before he could do anything he would regret. Not that he would truly regret pounding Draco Malfoy. She would just prefer the meeting stay civil. Ron glared at Draco, and then proceeded to sit on the couch, attempting to calm himself down. _Where is Ginny? _Hermione wondered. Ginny was always good at peace keeping.; now would be the opportune time for her to appear in the room.

On cue, Ginny appeared facing Hermione. Her eyes held a worried expression.

"I couldn't find Harry," she said frantically.

"He's out on a mission," Ron said through clenched teeth. Ginny turned around to face her brother.

"Where?" she demanded. Ron shrugged.

"No idea," he answered. Ginny huffed.

"He's your best friend!" she protested. "How do you not know where he is?"

"You're his girlfriend," Ron told her. "Shouldn't you?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes in his direction and her hand went to the wand in her pocket. Hermione cringed. It was never good when one Weasley lost their temper—much less two in the same room.

"Ginny…" Hermione pleaded. "We didn't come here for a fight."

"Don't stop on my behalf," Draco drawled from behind her. "Please, continue."

Ron, apparently unable to control himself, stood up. The redness had spread from his ears to his face.

"Someone had bloody well tell me what the hell is going on here," he spat. He continued to glare at Draco while Draco smirked. Hermione knew Draco had always found watching Ron get angry quite amusing.

"Ron..." Hermione began. "You might want to sit back down."

"Fine," Ron muttered, doing just that. "But he better stay over there."

"Noted," Draco said sarcastically. "Am I allowed to breathe, or do you not want me using your air?"

Hermione turned towards him and gave him a look that clearly said 'shut-up'. He smirked at her before walking into the dining room and sitting down in one of the six wooden chairs.

Hermione moved to sit beside Ron on the couch as Ginny stood behind it.

"Do you remember when I went back to Hogwarts after the war?" Hermione asked Ron gently. He nodded. "Well...Draco was the potions professor, and we became..." she struggled, trying to find the right word, "Close," she finished.

"Close?" Ron asked incredulously. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means we were together," Draco said from across the room. Hermione wondered how in Merlin's name he could hear them when they weren't even speaking loud. In fact, she was practically whispering. Most likely, Hermione decided, he was using a spell to eavesdrop. She wouldn't put it past him.

Instead of getting mad like Hermione expected, Ron laughed. It wasn't a small, quick laugh either. His entire body shook as Ginny, Hermione, and Draco looked on. It almost looked as if he was having a seizure. Hermione glanced at Ginny who shrugged. Then, Ginny slapped the back of his head and his hand instantly flew up to nurse the spot.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he asked, the pain quickly sobering him up.

"He wasn't joking," Ginny replied. Ron turned to Hermione, waiting for her to tell him this was all some big joke. When no protest came, Ron continued to stare flabbergasted at Hermione.

"He's a Malfoy!" He told her, standing up. He looked at her, disgusted. "He's a fucking Death Eater!" Hermione cringed at Ron's choice of words. She never approved of him cursing, but thought that if there ever was a time when it was acceptable, now was it. She couldn't fathom how he must be feeling. He was angrier than she had ever seen him before. The sight of him towering over her made her feel small and vulnerable.

"There's more," she whispered. By this time Draco and Ron were locked in a twisted staring match, in which they both looked like they wanted to kill the other. "Please..." Hermione said. "Both of you…just sit down."

They glanced away from each other and into her pleading eyes before both taking their seats.

"We have a two year old son who is currently in a lot of trouble, and we really need your help," Hermione told him. Ron just stared at her, completely expressionless, and then he got up and walked to the table where Draco sat.

"You imperiused her, didn't you?" Ron asked, raising his wand at the other man's chest. "You son of a—"

"STOP!" Hermione yelled, running over and standing in front of Ron.

"Let me explain," she pleaded. Ron shook his head.

"I don't want an explanation," he told her. He lowered his wand. "I don't even know who you are," he spat. "You lied to me for over two years." He began walking toward the door. Hermione felt tears begin to form in her eyes.

"I didn't know!" Hermione pleaded desperately. "I took a potion making me forget everything about us being together. I didn't know I had a son until yesterday!"

Ron turned around.

"You were still with him," he said, gesturing to Draco. "You still shagged him." He turned back around, but paused as he reached for the doorknob.

"Did you ever even really love me?" he whispered.

"Of course I did!" Hermione replied as tears began slowly cascading down her cheeks. "How could you even think I didn't?"

Ron turned around and faced her.

"And what if you hadn't forgotten him?" Ron asked. "Would you still love me then?"

Hermione looked down and bit her lip as the tears continued to flow. How was she supposed to answer that question? She didn't know. She didn't even remember being with Draco. The only thing she knew was that she loved Leo more than anything, and he was Draco's son. It was an unquestionable fact. Facts were the one thing Hermione could always rely on.

Ron took Hermione's silence as an answer, and turned back around to continue opening the door.

"Don't be here when I get back," he said before disappearing out of the painted red door. The door slammed behind him and Hermione sniffed and began wiping her eyes. Ginny walked behind her and placed her arm gently on Hermione's shoulder.

"He'll come around," she said gently. Hermione shook her head and looked at Draco, whose eyes looked helplessly at her.

"We just sped up the inevitable," she said. "Ron and I were never meant to be," she paused. "I think, deep down, I always knew that."

Draco stood up and walked over to them.

"I always knew the weasel was daft," He said, trying miserably to cheer her up. "But he's a bloody idiot to let you go."

Hermione smiled softly at the fact that he was trying at all. Draco really had changed.

There was a sudden pain in her chest and Hermione placed her hand over her heart.

"What's wrong?" Ginny questioned. Hermione shook her head, trying to indicate that she needed silence. It felt as if something heavy lay on her chest, and her heart was beating fast, attempting to push it off of her. She heard a faint, child-like cry.

"Leo," she whispered. Draco looked worried. "Something's wrong." Hermione said quickly. "We have to go to him."

"Then let's go," Draco said, retrieving his wand from his pocket. Hermione and Ginny both nodded, and then the three of them disapparated to Hermione's aunt's flat.

* * *

**_Ron is upset. Big surprise there._**

**_I actually have nothing against Ron, so this was a tad bit difficult writing. I'm one of those rare people who like Ron/Hermione and Draco/Hermione._**

**_anyways...review please. It always makes me happy when I read the reviews my readers write :)  
_**


	9. Turning of the Tide

The two witches and the single wizard appeared suddenly in front of Hermione's aunt who was frantically entering the kitchen. She held Leo tightly in her arms and jerked slightly at their sudden appearance. However, Hermione had been expecting a greater reaction. Theresa didn't seem confused on how they got there. In fact, she looked angry.

"I don't know what you all are," Theresa said, clutching Leo tightly to her chest. "But I will not let you take him." Leo had his face buried in her neck, and Hermione had an overwhelming urge to hold him in her arms.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked desperately. It was then that she heard footsteps approaching from the direction of the living room. Normally, the carpet provided a sound barrier, but it sounded as if glass was crunching beneath the unknown person's feet. The pain in Hermione's chest intensified as she realized that there was more than one intruder and they were, without a doubt, Death Eaters.

Draco seemed to realize this as well, for he raised his wand and pointed it at the doorway. Ginny immediately mimicked his action. Theresa, obviously thinking they were aiming at her, turned around in an attempt to shield Leo. Her efforts were in vain for as she turned around, Amycuss Carrow and Walden Macnair came in view of the kitchen. Both of them raised their wands and before they had time to react, all three of their wands were thrown out of their hands by a silent spell. Amycuss chuckled as Theresa became even more frightened, her eyes brimming with tears.

"_Avada Kevada_!" he yelled, and a jolt of green light flew out from his wand, hitting Theresa's forehead. Behind him, Macnair pointed his wand at Ginny. He cast a silent petrify spell, and her and Theresa simultaneously fell to the floor. Leo landed with his head still buried in Theresa's neck. He began crying from the shock of the fall, and then pushed himself up and ran over to Draco. He tugged on his pants and held his arms up. Draco picked him up and held him safely in his arms. He then began rubbing comforting circles on the small of his back.

"Well, well, well," Amycuss said, his wand pointed at Hermione. Macnair had taken watch over Draco and his son. "It looks as if Lucius was wrong." He smiled, revealing yellow teeth. "What do you think, Macnair?" he asked. "Does the boy look like a Weasley?"

Hermione glanced fearfully at Draco, who had yet to lose his composure. He stood, guarded, alternating his gaze from Amycuss to Macnair and back again. He held Leo protectively in his arms as the boy continued crying, but at a much lower volume. Leo kept trying to turn around, but Draco continued turning his head away.

Macnair sniggered.

"On the contrary," he said, walking toward Draco. "I'd say he looks much more like a Malfoy." He used the tip of his wand to twirl a light blond strand of Leo's hair.

"Don't touch him," Draco hissed, his eyes darkening. Macnair cackled and turned to Amycuss, giving him an amused look. Amycuss walked towards Hermione and raised his wand to her throat.

"What about her?" he asked. "Surely you could care less about the Mudblood." He used the tips of his calloused fingers to trace a line down her jaw. Hermione shuddered at the contact, but her eyes remained focused on Leo.

"If you hurt her, I will kill you," he told Amycuss darkly, and then straightened his stance. "You forget who I am."

Amycuss laughed at this—a cold, fake laughter that made Hermione inwardly cringe.

"You're a traitor," he said and then quickly turned and aimed his wand at Draco's left shoulder—ironically, the one Leo wasn't lying on. "_Everte Statum_!" he yelled and Draco was thrown backwards onto the corner of the kitchen counter. Hermione watched helplessly as Draco's face twisted in pain as it pierced his right side. Leo, inadvertently, was thrown forward, into the arms of Macnair, who immediately spun around and disapparated. Amycuss, unable to leave well enough alone, yelled "_Lacarnum Inflamare_!" and then disapparated himself as a ball of fire sped towards Draco, igniting his right sleeve into flames.

Hermione grabbed her wand from the floor and ran over to Draco, who began writhing in pain. He was making small, high pitched noises and seemed to be in a state of fervor.

"_Augumenti_!" Hermione whispered and a jet of water was emitted from her wand. It quickly got rid of the flames, but Draco's arm was left in a bloody, blistered state. His entire body was covered in sweat and he was muttering incoherent words. After a moment, his head lulled to the side and his eyes fluttered closed. Concerned, Hermione checked his pulse. When she found it, she concluded that he had merely passed out from the pain.

She waved her wand in Ginny's direction, muttered "_Finite_," and Ginny was removed from her paralyzed state. She stood up and rushed over to them.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked. Hermione nodded.

"But we need to get him home," she said. Then, for the first time, she looked at her aunt's body. "She was just trying to protect him..." she whispered, and Ginny nodded sadly and then placed her hand on Hermione's arm.

"Grab his ankle," she said softly, and Hermione did as she was told. Then, Ginny transported the three of them back to Hermione's flat. Hermione watched as the image before her instantly transformed from her dead aunt to the floor of her living room.

"Help me get him to my bed," Hermione told Ginny as she stood up and gingerly began lifting Draco by his shoulders. Ginny grabbed his ankles and they maneuvered from the living room, down the narrow hall, and into her bedroom. Struggling, for neither of them were used to lifting things, they placed him on top of her cream-colored bedspread. He made a small grunting noise, but remained unconscious. Hermione sat beside him on the bed.

"I need a pitcher of warm water and a wash cloth," she told Ginny. "And there's a white bottle above the kitchen sink that says 'Tylenol'. It's a Muggle pain medicine," she explained. "Could you bring me that and a cup of water?"

Ginny nodded and exited Hermione's bedroom, heading for the kitchen. Sighing, Hermione turned around to face Draco. She was afraid that she didn't have much time.

She lifted his arms above his head, cringing as her fingers touched his burned skin. She was immensely glad that he was unconscious, for the mere act of moving his arm would've caused terrible pain. After repositioning him, she removed his shirt, though bits of it remained burned into the flesh of his arm. Hermione gasped as she saw the gash in his side for the first time. It was deeper than she originally thought. She quickly grabbed his shirt and placed it under him, then tied it tightly around his abdomen where the gash was. She would've been lying if she said that she didn't simultaneously notice the hard muscles of his stomach. As she tied the shirt, she intentionally ran her finger lightly over his porcelain skin. Though he was damaged, Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen anything more beautiful. It was almost as if he had been carved out of white marble.

At that moment Ginny entered the room, surprising Hermione who jumped slightly.

"I think I got everything," Ginny told her, laying a silver pitcher with a blue washcloth hanging over the rim on the nearby bedside table. Then, she placed the bottle of Tylenol down along with a small, plastic green cup. "Do you need anything else?" she asked. Hermione shook her head, and Ginny nodded and then exited the room. She understood Hermione's need for privacy.

Hermione picked up the wand that she had laid on the bed and pointed it at Draco's arm.

"_Episkey_," she whispered and watched as the blisters vanished. However, blood still remained on his arm. She leaned over and dipped the washcloth into the pitcher of warm water and then proceeded to wring it out. Carefully, she ran the washcloth down his arm, removing the blood. She did this six or seven times before Draco's arm twitched and he showed signs of regaining consciousness. His eyes opened and closed several times before he focused on Hermione's face. She smiled comfortingly and then reached for the white bottle and poured four pills into her hand. She grabbed the green cup and then held the cup and pills in front of Draco.

"I need you to swallow these," she told him. Draco looked skeptical. "It will help with the pain," she explained. Draco nodded and then pushed himself up so that he was leaning his shoulders against the head board. He took the pills from her and Hermione felt a pull in the pit of her stomach as his fingers brushed her palm. They caught each others' eyes and Hermione felt her pulse quicken.

Draco smiled a genuine un-Draco-like smile before swallowing the pills.

"I don't know why they didn't kill me," he said in a raspy voice. He then cleared his throat as Hermione shook her head.

"I think their plans changed when they realized you were the father," she said. Draco glanced down at the shirt she had tied around him.

"I let Leo down," he muttered. Hermione shook her head and placed her hand on his newly-healed arm.

"You did the best you could," she told him. "Besides, Leo is okay. I can feel it."

Draco nodded and began pushing himself up slowly, attempting to get off the bed. Hermione pushed him back.

"You need to rest," she told him.

"But what about Leo?" he questioned. It was obvious he placed all the responsibility on himself.

"You can't do anything for Leo until you're stronger," she said. "And we don't even know the first place to look."

Draco sighed and laid his head back, frustrated.

"I just…" he said, and Hermione nodded.

"I know." She stood up from the bed and grabbed her wand. "Get some rest," she told him and headed for the door.

"Stay," Draco commanded. Hermione spun around. "If you want to," Draco amended, softening his voice. Hermione bit her lip and stood contemplating for a moment. Then, she walked over to the bed and sat back down.

Draco lay back down on the bed and his eyes began fluttering closed.

"Thanks, Granger," he muttered and Hermione smiled as she watched him drift off to sleep.

* * *

**_i think this was my favorite chapter...let me know what you think :)_**


	10. Morning Comes

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and realized that the room was filled with light from the sun shining in through the double windows. She hadn't remembered falling asleep. She felt that there was something wrapped around her waist, and her back felt incredibly warm. Once her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she looked down and her heart rate quickened.

Draco's left arm was around her, protectively pulling her closer to him. Her back was directly against his chest. She'd never really felt protected before. It was always her trying to protect everyone else. Besides that, sleeping with someone was new to her. Ron and her had never taken that step before.

She figured that it wasn't actually something entirely new—she had conceived Leo, after all—it was just new to the her that lacked important memories. Hermione sighed as the thought occurred to her that she may never remember. As she sighed, Draco stirred beside her and Hermione held her breath, hoping he would go back to sleep. She knew it would be awkward if he woke up and saw the position they were in.

Breathing slowly, trying to cause as little noise as possible, she began scooting closer to the edge of the bed. Draco's arm moved an inch or so off of her, but it still hindered her from being able to get up completely. She moved a little more, and Draco's hand moved to lie on her waist. She began slowly picking his hand up, intending to move it off of her, when she felt Draco's breath on the back of her neck. Hermione instantly froze and her eyes widened. She felt his fingers move beneath the grasp she had on his hand and she swallowed hard.

"Hermione?" he asked in a scratchy voice of someone who hasn't spoken in a while. He sounded dazed.

As Hermione slowly turned around to face him she felt her face heating up. Why was it that she always had to blush at the worst possible times?

Her face was less than a foot away from his, and she could see flecks of light blue in his eyes. She'd never really noticed how…beautiful he was. Instead, she had focused on everything she disliked about him. Now, it seemed, she could find nothing. It seemed as if he hadn't completely woken up yet, for he stared at her without blinking. For a moment, it seemed as if time had stopped, and the only thing that mattered was the color of each others eyes.

Hermione was the first to break the trance when she let out the breath she had been holding since she realized he was waking up. Draco blinked a few times, and then looked down at his arm that was still around her waist. He quickly moved it and sat up.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Old habit."

Hermione felt herself blush again, and she sat up as well, but moved to the edge of the bed so that she was turned away from him.

"We…um…did that a lot?" she asked sheepishly while combing her fingers through her incredibly tangled hair.

"Towards the end," he told her. His tone of voice said that he wanted to drop the subject. She could tell he was growing tired of being the only one who remembered their past relationship.

The two of them then sat in silence and Hermione began searching for something to say. She glanced around the room and noticed the bottle of Tylenol sitting on the bedside table.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, standing up. She walked over to the table and grabbed the bottle. "You should probably take more medicine for the pain."

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Draco nod and then stand up from the bed. He held his side as he slowly made his way over to her.

"Maybe you should stay laying down," Hermione told him, pouring two pills out of the bottle and into the palm of her hand.

"I'm fine," Draco said, though the fact that he was saying it through a grimace and clenched teeth said otherwise. Hermione looked down at the shirt wrapped around his stomach.

"I'm sorry I couldn't heal you with magic," she told him. "I…stopped learning advanced spells once I moved to the Muggle community."

Draco held out his hand and Hermione dropped the pills into it. She was careful to avoid touching him—she already felt awkward enough about the position they had been in earlier.

"Why _did_ you move to the Muggle world?" Draco asked, slightly disgusted. "I don't know why you would want to live here." He took the cup of water that Hermione held out to him and then swallowed the two pills.

Hermione took the cup back from him and then placed it back on the table.

"I don't really know," she told him without turning around. "I guess maybe because the Muggle world is so simple." She turned, but didn't look him in the eye. "No one has even heard of Death Eaters," she whispered and looked down at the hardwood floor. "No one has to worry about having their memory erased."

Draco made her look at him by placing his finger tips on her chin and guiding her face upward. As soon as she was focused on him, he dropped his arm back down to his side.

"In the note you wrote to me, you said there was a way you could remember," he told her. Hermione nodded.

"But I don't know what it is," she said. "And I didn't leave myself anything that could help." After she spoke, the words sounded funny to her ears. It sounded as if she was some kind of mental person with multiple personalities.

"Of course you didn't," Draco said, annoyed. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"I don't think you planned on actually remembering me," he said, raising his voice. "Actually, I think you depended on me **not** coming back!"

"Well, can you blame me?" Hermione asked angrily, placing her hands on her hips. "It took you a year and a half to even consider finding me!"

"Dammit woman!" Draco yelled, slamming the side of his fist against the bed post. "How the hell do you know what I thought about while I was doing my father's bidding?" he demanded. "How do you know I didn't think about you every bloody second of every day?"

Hermione stared at him, his eyes dark and menacing. She actually felt scared of him—terrified, really. Not that she thought he would hurt her; not at all. She was just finally seeing how much he had gone through and how horrible his life had been. He deserved, at the very least, to be allowed to be angry.

"Draco," she whispered, her voice sounding small and weak compared to his. "I'm sorry."

At that moment, Ginny walked in the door holding a package, and they both turned toward her. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them.

"Did I interrupt something?" she asked. Hermione shook her head and attempted to smooth down her hair with her hand.

"We were just talking," Hermione said, glancing guiltily at Draco. His body was still tense, but his expression had softened.

"Good," Ginny answered and walked over to Hermione, holding out a small, square package wrapped in dark green paper. "Because this just came for you."

"That's odd," Hermione said, taking the package. She slowly unwrapped it and then pulled out a black velvet jewelry box. She looked questioningly at Ginny who merely shrugged.

"Open it," Ginny urged.

Hermione opened the box and found a silver ring sitting in the center. In the middle of the ring sat a large round emerald, with two smaller square diamonds on either side. She began reaching toward it, intending to try it on, but Draco's hand grabbed her wrist.

"Don't touch it," he said. Hermione watched him, confused, as he turned to Ginny. "What color was the owl that delivered this?" he asked.

"White with brown spots," Ginny answered. "Why?" Draco released the hold he had on Hermione, and she looked at him, waiting for an explanation.

"It's my mother's owl," he said. "And so is the ring."

Hermione stared down at the ring. It certainly looked like Narcissa, much more than it looked like something Hermione would ever wear.

"What does that mean?" she asked, entranced by the way the emerald sparkled in the light.

"I think it's a portkey," Draco told them. His brow furrowed as if he was in deep thought.

"To where?" Ginny asked.

"The Death Eater hideout," Hermione whispered as realization dawned on her. Narcissa had been a Death Eater during the war. She had saved Harry, of course, but she never asked for protection from the Order. She had stayed faithfully by her husband.

"You think it's a trap," Ginny muttered. "Makes sense."

"Of course it's a trap!" Draco said. "Which is why we can't go."

Hermione turned around, staring at him in disbelief.

"But they have Leo!" she said. "We have to save him!"

"We will," Draco said. He seemed distracted. "Just not this way."

Hermione scoffed and shook her head. She couldn't believe he wasn't going to use the portkey to save their son. And if he wouldn't, then she would.

She removed the ring from the box and then slipped it on her finger. The last thing she heard was Ginny screaming her name and Draco cursing before she was being sucked through a tunnel. Oh, how she hated traveling by portkey. The feeling of being trapped and suffocated had never appealed to her. She would've called herself insane if it had.

She landed on her back in the floor of a very cold, very dark room. She could see light coming in—presumably from a fire—from far ahead. Then, she saw the outline of cloaked figures approaching. She realized with a sickening jolt that in the midst of everything that had gone on that morning, she had forgotten her wand.

* * *

**_I guess you've figured out by now that I like writing cliffhangers. Sorry about that._**

**_Anyways...I can't decide if I like this chapter better than the previous one. I definitely liked writing it a whole lot more._**

**_review :) ...even though I already know you will. You have all been amazing.  
_**


	11. Held Prisoner

Hermione woke up in a bed that she knew for a fact she had never been in before. She sat up slowly, peering into the darkness of the room. She wondered what time and day it was and how the Death Eaters had managed to knock her unconscious. That was, after all, the only explanation for how she got in the room she currently occupied.

The comforter felt scratchy underneath her hands, as if it was textured or had some kind of lace. The room had obviously belonged to a girl once. She doubted they would've made accommodations just for her.

Her eyes finally adjusted so that she could make out a few shapes in the darkness. Directly in front of the bed she guessed was a dresser, to the left was a door, and to the right a bookcase. The bookcase, however, lacked the things for which it was made. In fact, the whole room seemed incredibly bare.

Cautiously, Hermione scooted to the edge of the bed and let her toes touch the stone floor. She didn't want to make any noise to alert the Death Eaters that she was awake. She pushed herself up slowly and stood beside the bed. She tiptoed over to the door, reaching her hands out in front of her as a precaution. She finally found the doorknob and turned it. It was locked. Not that she had expected anything less. It seemed that her first instinct had been right. She was being held prisoner until Draco came to rescue her and their son. They were bait. Somehow the Death Eaters knew that Hermione would put on the ring, and that Draco wouldn't initially follow. Everything, Hermione realized as she sunk down to floor and buried her face in her hands, has been carefully planned.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco was pacing through Hermione's flat, muttering incoherently under his breath. Ginny sat on the couch, holding a pillow in her lap.

"You should sit down," Ginny said. "You've been pacing for four hours straight."

"I can't sit down!" Draco yelled irately. "For all I know Hermione _and_ Leo are dead, all because of me!"

Ginny glared at him.

"Blaming yourself isn't helping either one of them," she snapped. She was getting tired of his attitude. He acted like he was the only one who cared about them.

"I'm going to murder every single one of those bastards," Draco muttered as he continued to pace, this time in front of the couch where Ginny sat.

_Not if I get to them first, _Ginny thought. Out loud she asked,

"How is it that you don't know where they are?" she asked. "You _are_ one of them."

Draco stopped pacing and turned around to face her.

"I _was_ one of them," he said shortly, his eyes narrowing. "Past tense, Weaselette."

Ginny rolled her eyes at the nickname he used to call her while they were in school.

"You can't just give up the Dark Mark," she told him. "It isn't possible."

Draco's hand unconsciously went to his left arm. The mark had always been one of the many things he regretted most. It tore him apart, took away his life and his soul. It caused him to become a slave to his own failed destiny. But then, things changed. He changed. He fell in love with the last person he had ever expected.

He, Draco Malfoy, Death Eater, fell in love with Hermione Granger, a Mudblood. And nothing was ever the same. He stopped wanting to be evil, wanting to prove to his father that he could kill. He stopped, well, everything he had been.

For a while, he thought he could do it. He thought he could be the person she deserved. Then his father broke out of Azkaban, and he ran back to him like the obedient son he was raised to be. He did the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He left her, and pregnant no less—not that he had known it at the time. The mark was his second biggest regret. Leaving her was his first.

Now, he had come back, and he could see that she was falling for him again. She was acting like she had the first time. He didn't think it was fair to find her, only to have to lose her again.

"Sorry," Ginny said, taking his silence to mean that he was angry. He was, just not at her. "I'm just tense," she explained. "She's my best friend."

Draco shook his head distractedly. He was still lost in his thoughts.

"I'm going to find her," he said. "One way or another."

Ginny sighed, frustrated, and threw the pillow down to the floor.

"If only Harry was here and Ron wasn't such a prat," she told him. As much as Draco hated to admit it, he agreed with the female Weasley. It would be much easier figuring out what to do with the two supposed "best aurors in the wizarding world" helping them.

"They can't always be around to save the world," Draco said sharply. Sure, they would be a help, but he was tired of Saint Potter always being the one to save the day. Potter didn't even like all the fame and glory.

Ginny rolled her eyes once again. Draco always had to be so difficult.

"So what do we do?" Ginny asked, annoyed. "Wait around to get news of their Deaths?"

Instead of answering, Draco walked into Hermione's room. Ginny sighed and grudgingly followed him.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she approached the doorway. Draco was on the opposite side of Hermione's bed standing in front of her oak bookcase, running his fingers across the spine of her many books.

"Looking for a book on portkeys," he told her. There had to be a way to trace a portkey, and books had always provided Hermione with an answer. The two of them were getting nowhere, so he decided it was time to think like someone else. He knew Hermione as well as he knew himself, so it was a task that was easily done.

He found a book that was labeled The Ins and Outs of Portkeys and pulled it off the shelf. Ginny walked over to him as he sat down on the bed and opened the book.

Draco opened to the table of contents and found a section labeled _Returning From Whence You Came: How to Trace a Portkey _and turned to page 107 where the section began. Ginny read over his shoulder as his fingers traced the words on the page.

_There are two types of portkeys: those that stay behind, and those that don't. If a porkey has been left behind, it is quite easy to discover where it was leading the person(s) who touched it. The simple incantation, __**rivelare**__, reveals to the caster a translucent image of the location._

_However, a portkey that travels with the person(s) has no way of being traced. Portkeys of this type are extremely rare and used primarily in times of war, or when hiding is required._

Draco slammed the book closed, causing Ginny to jump slightly.

"Great," he said sarcastically with a hint of malice. "We have no way of finding her."

Ginny sighed and sat on the opposite side of the bed from him. She wasn't one that liked giving up, but she could see no solution to their problem.

Suddenly, Draco felt a sharp pain in his left arm. It was as if hot metal had been pressed to the underside of his lower arm. He moaned in agony and fell back on the bed, clutching his arm tightly.

Startled, Ginny jumped up from the bed and stared down at him helplessly.

"Malfoy?" she asked fearfully as he began thrashing from left to right on the bed. The pain had changed from a burning sensation to that of sharp knives being jabbed into his skin.

"They're…summoning…me," Draco managed to get out through his fits of pain. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a pulsing, black Dark Mark. Grimacing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand.

"You can't go to them!" Ginny protested. "It's a trap!"

"I…have…to…save…them," Draco told her and then pressed his wand tip to the snake's head. He squeezed his eyes closed as he was transported from Hermione's bedroom to a pitch black hall. He barely caught himself as he landed face down on a cold floor. Immediately, the pain in his arm subsided. He stood up quickly, clutching his wand and pointing it at the darkness in front of him.

"_Lumos_," he whispered and his wand tip was illuminated by a small white light. There was nothing in front of him but the black marble floor. He had fully expected to be ambushed on his arrival, but not one person was waiting for him. He figured they had simply underestimated him.

Draco shined the light on the wall, and a portrait was instantly lit up. It featured three young girls with their parents. All three girls had different hair colors, and looked nothing alike. The youngest had white blonde hair, the next oldest had brown, and the oldest girl's hair was jet black and unruly. Draco instantly recognized all three girls as his mother and aunts. This house must have been where they grew up. It made since as a hideout. He was informed it had been destroyed years ago by members of the Order.

Draco cautiously walked forward as he held his wand in front of him. He passed a white door but then stopped when he heard soft crying. He backtracked and stood in front of the door.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"Draco?" Hermione's voice asked hopefully and he heard her sniff.

"_Alohomora_!" Draco whispered, pointing his wand at the doorknob. The door knob clicked unlocked and then flew open and he was sent flying by some invisible force into the back wall, simultaneously dropping his wand. His head flew back and hit the wall, knocking him unconscious. Hermione, who had been standing behind the door, gasped and ran over to him. She then watched in horror as the door slammed shut and she heard it lock once more.

* * *

**_Don't kill me because of another cliffhanger. I promise I don't do it on purpose._**

**_anyways...you know what to do :)  
_**


	12. Conversations in Darkness

Hermione tried desperately to wake Draco, who was lying slumped against the bedroom wall, his chin touching his chest. His arms laid limply by his side, palms facing upward.

"Draco?" she asked, shaking his arm. "Please, wake up!" Draco's body moved, but he did not wake. Hermione wondered why it was always him who ended up injured, and her who was left to take care of him. She wondered if that was how it had been before.

"Dammit, Draco!" Hermione yelled, pounding his chest with the side of her fist. He coughed and slowly opened his eyes into slits. His hand instantly went to the spot on his chest where she had hit. Hermione hoped desperately that she hadn't put him in a worse condition than he already was.

"Draco?" Hermione asked softly. She sounded as if she was speaking to a child. Draco coughed again and muttered something incoherent.

"Sorry?" Hermione asked, wondering if his mutterings had been intended for her ears.

"Didn't think you had it in you, Granger," Draco said, and a weak smirk graced his lips. His eyes opened fully and he was able to focus on her. _No concussion_, Hermione deduced. She smiled and rolled her eyes at his comment. Draco pushed himself up slightly so that his back was pressed against the wall. Hermione mimicked his position on the left side of him. They were in such close proximity to each other that Hermione could feel the heat radiating from his body, though they weren't even touching.

"Where's Leo?" Draco asked, obviously fearing the answer. Hermione looked down at the floor and hugged her knees tightly to her chest.

"I don't know," she whispered. Draco dropped his gaze as well and after a moment of silence, Hermione spoke again. "How did you find me?"

Draco lifted up his left sleeve and turned his arm over. "They summoned me," he told her and Hermione looked down through the darkness of the room and saw the outline of a pulsating Dark Mark.

"It looks painful," she told him. Draco pulled his sleeve back down and relaxed his arm beside him. However, he said nothing. "You shouldn't have come," Hermione said. "You should've known it was a trap." She thought it was lunacy to obey the Death Eaters call. Especially when Draco knew they were looking to kill—or at least capture—him.

"I did know," Draco answered simply, turning his head to look at her.

"Oh," Hermione replied sheepishly.

"I had to try, didn't I?" Draco asked in a mixture of anger and exhaustion. "I'd be a coward if I hadn't."

Hermione bit her lip and locked her fingers together.

"I'm glad you did," she said softly, staring at the door ahead of her.

"Don't wish it had been Weasel or Saint Potter?" Draco asked, scoffing. His anger, however, was weak. Hermione had the strangest feeling that he was just putting on an act; afraid to show any sign of weakness. Instead of coming up with a retort, Hermione simply sat there staring at the door. The white paint seemed to glow in the darkness. It was currently the only thing besides Draco that she could make out clearly.

"Do you think they're going to kill us?" she asked softly, her voice shaking slightly.

"No," Draco replied emotionless. "If they wanted to kill us, we'd already be dead."

Hermione had to admit that the words he spoke were the truth. Death Eaters weren't exactly known for their mercy.

"What about Leo?" she asked, her eyes brimming with tears. "He's just a baby…"

The mention of Leo caused Draco's expression to soften. He turned towards her just in time to see a tear fall down her cheek.

"Hey," he said, nudging her softly. "He's a Malfoy, remember?" he asked, attempting to lighten the mood. "He'll be fine."

Hermione laughed weakly and wiped the tears from her eyes. She nodded, hoping that he was right. She didn't know what she would do if she found out the son she just met had been murdered.

"Besides," Draco said. "If they hurt him, I'll kill them." His tone was completely serious, menacing even.

"I know," Hermione told him and she had no doubt that he would. Hermione pushed herself up off the floor and moved over to sit on the edge of the bed facing Draco. She maneuvered around the room quite easily now, for her eyes had had plenty of time to grow accustomed to the light.

Draco watched her as she got up, his eyes following her every move.

"Draco?" she asked quietly, as if she was afraid he would hex her for simply speaking his name. Draco didn't say anything, but raised his eyebrows questioningly at her tone of voice. "Tell me about us."

Draco was taken aback; that was the last thing he expected her to ask. And he wasn't so sure he wanted to tell her. It brought back way too many memories that he had been working hard to repress.

"It's just…" Hermione continued, "I want to know," she swallowed loudly. "In case something happens to one of us."

Draco stood up, but kept his back leaning the wall.

"It wasn't some fairytale romance if that's what you're wondering," Draco said. "I'm not the weasel."

"I didn't—" Hermione began to protest, but Draco held his hand up to stop her. She instantly closed her mouth and sat patiently, waiting for him to speak.

"My first day of teaching, you stormed out of the classroom," he told her. "I gave you detention for leaving without permission. It was quite enjoyable, really, watching you clean the inside of cauldrons. And then when I realized I could keep you there every day, well, I just couldn't pass up the chance."

"You hated me, but the feeling was mutual. So the first couple of weeks were spent hurling insults at each other."

Hermione smiled. That sounded like them.

"Then one day you started being nice. You wanted to know everything there was to know about me. It threw me off guard," he paused. "No one had ever really cared before. Especially not enough to ask."

Hermione dropped her head and stared at her knees.

"We became friends—if that's what you could call it—and you came to detention everyday whether I gave it to you or not. Then one day I had this insane notion to snog you, so I did." He smirked. "You hexed me."

Hermione looked up and laughed.

"Sorry," she said feebly, apologizing for something she didn't even remember doing. Draco shook his head, telling her wordlessly that it didn't matter.

"But then the next day, you snogged me while we were in the middle of a conversation. After that, much of our relationship is a blur."

"But you loved me?" Hermione asked, as quietly as she could while still allowing him to hear.

"Annoying quirks and all," Draco replied.

Hermione raised her legs up on the bed and hugged her knees to her chest.

"Then you shouldn't have left," she told him.

Draco finally moved from his position against the wall and walked over to the bed and sat beside her.

"I didn't have a choice, Hermione." Like always, his voice saying her name caused everything to stop. It was as if he had the power to freeze time—or at least her heartbeat. "My father would've killed you if he found out about us—if I didn't go back."

"We could've found a way," Hermione told him. She refused to believe that that was the only answer. It was part of her stubborn personality.

"No," Draco said. "We couldn't have."

Hermione sighed, giving up. It was pointless arguing with him. She began rocking back and forth, her hands still clasped across her knees.

They sat there is silence for a while; her rocking, and him staring straight ahead. Finally, Draco's voice broke Hermione out of her trance.

"I'm sorry that I left you," he said. "I never wanted to."

"I know," Hermione answered, and she did. She had no doubt that he had loved her and never wished to leave her. She could see it in his eyes. With the exception of a few wizards, she had always been good at reading people.

"What happened to you?" Hermione asked. Draco turned toward her, a questioning look on his face. "I mean, you've changed is all," Hermione explained. "You're not the same boy I knew at Hogwarts."

Draco scoffed. That was for sure.

"You really have to ask?" Draco questioned, as if the answer was completely obvious. Hermione thought that it wasn't in the slightest. She stared at him, waiting for him to explain. "You," Draco said simply. "You happened."

Hermione felt herself blush and was glad the room was dark so that Draco couldn't see.

"You give me an awful lot of credit," she muttered, embarrassed, but Draco shook his head.

"You've never once, in all the time I've known you, received credit that wasn't deserved."

* * *

**_Little action in this chapter, but lots of Draco/Hermione interaction. I hope I didn't disappoint._**

**_I know it took me a little longer than usual to update, but I'm on vacation so I've had little chance to get on the computer._**

**_Review, please. It brings a smile to my face :)  
_**


	13. The Return of Leo

"Someone's coming," Hermione whispered as she heard footsteps approaching. Draco got up from the bed and stood in front of her, shielding her with his body. She felt herself involuntarily stop breathing and her heart rate quicken as her body sensed danger. They heard the door unlock—by magic, she was sure—and the door was thrown open. Light pouring in from the outside hall reached Hermione's eyes in a quick, painful second as her pupils dilated. Her eyes hadn't seen light in five hours and were easily strained by the simple task. She peered around Draco and saw a sneering Death Eater whom she recognized, but could not remember how. His russet face was scared in multiple places, and his dark eyes stared at Draco in disgust.

"Do you really think you can protect her?" he asked, laughing dryly. "And how were you planning on doing that?" His wand was raised, pointing at Draco, but the Death Eater showed no signs of attempting to use it.

"Long time, no see, Jugson," Draco replied. "Your time in Azkaban really took a toll on you; I've never seen you so ugly."

Jugson scowled and gripped his wand so tightly that Hermione saw his knuckles turn white.

"I'd watch what you say if I were you," Jugson growled. "We wouldn't want your Mudblood whore getting hurt, now would we?"

Hermione watched as Draco's fist clenched and she knew that that wasn't a good sign.

"Don't, Draco…" Hermione warned, but it was too late. He had already taken off running towards Jugson, and slammed his shoulder into the large Death Eater's chest. Taken by surprise, Jugson fell backwards onto the floor with a dull thud. However, he kept a tight grip on his wand. Draco dropped to his knees and attempted to pin him to the floor, but Jugson was twice his size and easily overpowered him. He pushed him off, aimed his wand, and yelled,

"_Crucio_!"

Hermione covered her mouth in horror as she watched Draco's body slam to the ground, the back of his head bouncing slightly as it slammed against the marble. Then his body began twitching and he made horrible moaning sounds. Twice he emitted a high-pitched scream and his back arched while his hands formed fists, though his arms remained quite limp. Hermione had to look away; she couldn't bear to see him in such excruciating pain.

"STOP IT!" she yelled, tears beginning to fall down her face. Jugson turned to her and smiled menacingly.

"As you wish," he said and then flicked his wand so that Draco was thrown against the wall. He landed back on the floor, face down, his arms spread out and his palms facing toward the ceiling. Hermione saw his back rise and fall with his breathing, but detected no other movement. He groaned, and she realized that he was still conscious. She wished desperately that he wasn't—he would be in much less pain.

She began walking over to him when Jugson grabbed her arm.

"You're coming with me, Mudblood," he told her, digging his nails into her arm. He then began dragging her out of the room. Hermione glanced helplessly back at Draco, who was now attempting to push himself up. His eyes clicked with hers for a fraction of a second and then he collapsed, too weak to do anything but lie lifelessly.

The door slammed behind them as Jugson pulled Hermione down a long hall behind him. He walked swiftly and she had to jog to keep up with him. However, she still managed to glance at some of the portraits on the walls as their eyes followed her every move. Most portrayed three girls, different in everything but their mouth and nose. They were sisters, obviously, but two of them—the blonde and the seemingly wild one—stayed close together. The third sister was often painted by herself.

Hermione was so intent at looking at one particular painting of the solitary girl reading outside under a tree that she forgot to move her feet, and fell to her knees behind Jugson. He muttered something under his breath that she was sure was vulgar, and then pulled harshly on her arm. Hermione winced in pain, but began once again following him. They rounded a corner and he pushed her into the adjoining room. She stumbled and fell to her knees once again, but this time at someone's feet. She looked up and found the face of Amycuss Carrow staring down at her.

"Miss me?" he asked. Hermione pushed herself up using her hands and stood up, backing away from him. Instead of replying, she surveyed her surroundings.

She assumed—judging by the massive chandelier overhead—that she was in what had once been used as a ballroom. There was even a stage in the back left corner where bands must've once played. Dirty, ragged black stage curtains had been left halfway opened, and she wondered why they had been left at all. White table and chairs had been pushed against the wall, leaving the center of the room, where Hermione now stood, bare.

"Nice place to die, don't you think?" Amycuss asked as he caught her staring once again at the gold chandelier.

"Better than the likes of _her_ deserve," a voice said, and Hermione turned around to see Macnair entering the room. His long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and had been slicked down. It reflected much of the light emitted by the chandelier.

"Where's Leo?" Hermione demanded.

"Relax," Macnair drawled. "The boy's alive." He twirled his wand between his fingers. "Though he may not be for long."

Hermione felt the muscles in her lower abdomen clench in fear.

"No," Hermione whispered. Then, raising her voice she said desperately, "Take me instead."

Amycuss grabbed a lock of her hair, pulling the curl out, and then he released it. It sprung back and looked as if it had never been touched at all.

"Oh, my dear girl," he said, though his voice was the farthest thing away from comforting, "We plan to."

Hermione swallowed hard and felt her palms begin to sweat. She hadn't expected to die this way—not after the war. She had hoped for a natural death; one in which she was old and graying and was taken away peacefully. However, if her death protected Leo, she would have no regrets. She would choose to die to save him—to save her son.

"Bring the boy," Amycuss commanded, and Jugson—who had been a silent observer—left the room. They weren't honestly going to force Leo to watch her die, were they? Hermione stood as if petrified, waiting for Jugson to return.

He did, carrying an unmoving Leo in his arms. He muttered a spell and touched it to the boy's forehead. Leo instantly sprang to life, looking first at the man who held him, and then at his mother. Then, he began wailing, scared by Jugson's scarred face.

"Shh, Leo," Hermione whispered, and tried to walk over to him, but found that her legs would not move. "It's okay." Leo continued crying, and Jugson cast a silencing spell on him. Hermione turned to Amycuss.

"Please…" Hermione said. "He's just a boy…"

"And why are you under the impression that it matters to me?" Amycuss drawled, raising his wand and pointing it at her chest. "_Avada_—"

His wand was thrown out of his hand by a jet of blue light, and Hermione turned around to see Narcissa Malfoy walking toward her.

"Take the girl and her son back to the bedroom," she ordered. Amycuss glared at her.

"Since when have I taken orders from you?" he asked. "The plan was—"

"THE PLAN HAS CHANGED!" Narcissa barked. She turned to Jugson. "Take them to Draco," she said. "Now!"

Jugson glanced at Amycuss who made no sign for Jugson to obey her or not. Narcissa glared fiercely at him, and he gave up.

"Come on," he muttered to Hermione, and she followed him back down the hall while he still carried a crying, but now silent Leo. Hermione heard Narcissa and Amycuss arguing as they walked.

"You're not even a Death Eater!" Amycuss yelled. "You betrayed the Dark Lord!"

"And yet, you kept me alive and I offered you this house as your headquarters!" she told him. "If you wish to stay here under my protection, you will obey me!"

"I do not obey anyone but the Dark Lord!" Amycuss growled.

"Well, he's dead now, isn't he?" Narcissa yelled. "So I'm what you have!"

Their voices became faint as Hermione walked further and further away. The last thing she heard was Amycuss.

"You better have a damn good plan," he threatened. "Because I'm getting sick of your hospitality."

They reached the door to the bedroom that Draco occupied and Jugson handed Leo roughly to Hermione as he unlocked the door.

"Next time you won't be so lucky," he told her, pushing her and her son back into the dark bedroom.

* * *

**_This chapter took me longer than usual to write, though I have no idea why._**

**_Reviews are loved :)  
_**


	14. Together

As soon as the door slammed behind mother and child, the silencing spell wore off and Leo's wailing rang in Hermione's ears. She wished desperately for light so that she could see him, but none came.

"Shh," she whispered soothingly into his ear as she held him to her chest, bouncing up and down on her heels. He began occasionally hiccuping through his tears.

"Hermione?" she heard Draco's strained voice ask. It came from the direction of where she knew was the bed, instead of on the floor where she had left him.

"Are you okay?" she asked him while still bouncing Leo, trying to calm him down.

"I've been better," was Draco's weak reply. Leo quieted and turned his head toward the direction of Draco's voice.

"Ouch?" Leo asked. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, Daddy's hurt," she told him. It felt natural, the word. As if she had called Draco "Daddy" many times before. It surprised her at how easily it had rolled off her tongue.

"'Elp," Leo said. Hermione looked down at him, confused. "'Elp!" he repeated. He struggled in her arms.

"I think he wants to help me," Draco told her feebly. Leo grinned, revealing many small, white teeth with gaps in between them.

"'Elp!" he said excitedly.

Hermione's eyes had become well-enough adjusted so that she could now make out the bed and the dark figure of Draco lying flat on his back. She walked over to the opposite side from where he was laying and Leo struggled harder.

"Down," he said. Hermione sat him gently down on the bed and he crawled over to Draco.

"Daddy no hurt," he said and then touched Draco's arm. Hermione watched as Draco's eyes fluttered closed and then, instantly, popped back opened.

"Draco?" she questioned, afraid. His eyes remained wide-opened, staring at the ceiling. Hermione cautiously climbed onto the bed, leaning over toward Draco and Leo, who still had his hand on Draco's arm. "Draco?" she asked again. "Can you hear me?"

Draco blinked once, then twice, and then stared at Hermione as if it was his first time seeing her. She felt incredibly self-conscious, and wanted to look away from his gaze, but found that she could not. She remained staring at him until she felt something touch her leg. She looked down and found that Leo had crawled away from Draco and now sat in front of her, his back leaning against her right leg as she sat cross-legged on the bed. Her breaking eye-contact must have broken Draco's trance as well, for he sat up.

"He…" Draco said, looking down at his legs as if he had just discovered they were there. "…Healed me."

"Honestly," Hermione began, "That's not even—" Draco lifted up his shirt and Hermione stared at his abdomen where the gash he had received at Theresa's house should've been. His skin remained perfect and unscathed. "—Possible," Hermione finished breathlessly. She looked down at Leo in awe, and found that he had curled up and fallen asleep against her leg. She supposed he had worn himself out from all the crying.

"No witch or wizard has ever demonstrated power before the age of three—much less power of this proportion," Hermione whispered, afraid of waking Leo. He needed his rest.

Draco put his shirt back down.

"That's because Leo is the first witch or wizard to be born with us as his parents," he responded. Hermione bit her lip. She wasn't convinced.

"But what makes us so special?" she questioned. "How did we give him _that_ much power?"

Draco shrugged and shook his head. He stared up at the ceiling while Hermione watched Leo's chest rise and fall with his breathing.

"This was where my mother grew up," he told her after there had been a few moments of silence. He placed his hands behind his head, resting them on the headboard. Hermione remembered seeing the blonde girl in the paintings in the hall; she knew that the girl had looked familiar.

"Along with your aunts?" Hermione asked, though she already knew the answer. If the blonde girl had been Narcissa, then the other two must've been Bellatrix and Tonk's mother.

Draco nodded and made a murmur of agreement.

"It was supposed to have burned down right after my mother was sent to Hogwarts," he said. "I wasn't aware it still existed."

_It exists all right, _Hermione thought. _And is being used as headquarters for the Death Eaters._

"Your mother saved me," she said quietly. Draco's head instantly turned towards her.

"My mother is here?" he asked. Hermione nodded.

"Amycuss was going to use the killing curse on me and she—she disarmed him," she said. She stared down at the bed. "She said the plan had changed." Hermione felt tears form in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of them. "Draco…" she breathed. "I don't think your mother will save me next time."

"Hey," Draco said, sitting completely up and scooting closer to her while trying not to wake Leo. He lifted her chin up with his fingertips. "I won't let them kill you," he told her. "If anyone has to die, it's going to be me."

Hermione stared into his eyes, which appeared darker than their usual color due to the absence of light. She shook her head.

"Leo needs a mother _and_ a father," she said. Draco took his hand away from her face.

"Why does it matter if he has both of his parents if they're not even together?" he asked, rather coldly. He turned away from her. "He needs you more than he needs me."

"That's not true!" Hermione protested. "I can't teach him how to ride a broom, much less catch a snitch or tell him the secrets of Quidditch!" her voice continued rising. "And I certainly can't be there for him when he needs another male to talk to!" As she spoke, sudden images filled her mind; Leo riding a broom for the first time, sending him off to Hogwarts, his first girlfriend, his graduation, his first job…she could imagine the life that he had in front of him. It pained her to think that either one of them wouldn't be there to watch him grow. "He _needs_ his father, and I—" Hermione stopped, cursing the tears that began to fall. "—I need you too."

The realization had occurred to her suddenly, and she had blurted it out without even thinking. In the images that had filled her mind only moments before she hadn't only seen Leo. In every scenario she imagined, Draco was there right beside her. They watched their son grow—_together_. And she couldn't imagine it any other way. It seemed odd, now, for Draco to be anywhere else but by her side. He just…fit. _They_ just fit.

As she looked down at her son she realized that if she was locked in the dark room for the rest of her life, she would be okay. Together Draco and her would survive, and they would do everything in their power to make sure Leo do the same.

At her words, Draco turned to face her and his eyes locked with hers.

"You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that," he murmured, and then his hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Halfway forgetting that Leo was between him, Hermione let him lead her face to his. He traced circles on the back of her jaw with his thumb and Hermione bit her lip nervously. Never had anyone made her feel the way he did when he touched her. She felt wanted—needed, really—and protected. Staring into his eyes, she felt invincible.

Draco dropped his gaze to her lips and within seconds, pressed his lips to hers. They were rough, but she hardly minded. Her eyelids slowly fluttered closed, and her hand moved to rest on his upper arm. His hand moved to cup her cheek as he deepened the kiss. She felt his frustration and longing, as if he had channeled all of his emotions and pent-up passion into the kiss. He was eager, but not rough, and Hermione felt like she could stay like this forever. She completely forgot where she was, or why she was there, and instead focused completely on the way his lips and hands felt upon her.

* * *

**_Took them long enough, huh?_**

**_Again, I just want to say thanks to all my reviewers. You are seriously amazing._**

**_Oh, hey, and no cliffhanger...that should make you happy :)  
_**


	15. Something Dark Is Coming

Hermione woke up with her head lying on Draco's chest and her left hand resting on his abdomen. She couldn't even remember falling asleep. There was something pressed against her stomach and she looked down to find Leo wedged in between her and Draco, still sound asleep and curled up in the fetal position. His back was against her stomach and his face was buried in Draco's shirt. Hermione smiled and looked up to find Draco staring down at her, an amused smirk upon his lips.

"How long was I asleep?" she whispered. She couldn't believe she had actually fallen asleep while being held captive. Now that she thought about it, however, she _had_ felt physically and emotionally drained. A little sleep probably did her quite a bit of good.

"Not too long," Draco told her. "An hour at the most."

Hermione sat up as slowly as possible in order not to wake Leo. He moved slightly and curled up closer to Draco, but did not wake.

"No one has come back?" Hermione asked. Draco shook his head.

"Not since you got here," he told her. Hermione sighed.

"There's no way of getting out of here, is there?" she asked helplessly. Draco shook his head.

"Not without wands," he replied.

The door to the room was suddenly blasted off its hinges. It crashed against the opposite wall and snapped in two.

"What the hell?" Draco exclaimed, standing up. The noise and the absence of his father woke Leo up and he began crying. Hermione quickly picked him up and held him tightly to her chest, rocking back and forth on her knees while remaining on the bed.

Amycuss entered the room, wand in hand and pointed at Hermione and Leo.

"All of you, OUT!" he roared. When no one made any attempt to move, he sent a spell toward Hermione. It missed the side of her face by an inch and crashed into the wall, blasting a hole in the plaster. "NOW!" he ordered and walked over, yanking her arm and forcibly pulling her up off the bed.

"I told you not to touch her," Draco said through clenched teeth. His right fist clenched and he began walking toward Amycuss. Hermione held out a hand to stop him.

"No!" she said, and then turned back to the Death Eater. "We're coming," she said in the bravest voice she could muster. She sent a pleading look to Draco who scowled, but unclenched his fist.

"Touch her again and you won't be so lucky," he spat as he walked by Amycuss into the hall. Hermione followed him and her hold on Leo tightened. Leo wailed louder as they moved into the brightly lit hall.

"Does he ever shut up?" Amycuss asked as he walked behind them with his wand pointed at Hermione's back.

"He's a baby," Hermione said in between making shushing sounds. "And you scare him."

"Good to see the boy has some sense," Amycuss said. "_Silencio_!" he muttered and Leo became silent, though his mouth was open and tears ran down his face. "Nevertheless, I hate children."

"Really?" Draco asked sarcastically. "And here I was thinking you had twenty of them running around."

"Shut up, you," Amycuss said, jabbing his wand into Draco's back. Draco cringed slightly and continued walking. He turned the corner into what Hermione knew to be the old ballroom. Draco entered the room first and looked around in awe, much like Hermione knew she had done before. Hermione adjusted Leo on her hip and watched as both Macnair and Jugson entered from a door that she hadn't noticed on her previous visit.

"Look, Macnair," Jugson drawled, circling the three of them. "One—big—happy—family," he said each word as if it formed its own sentence. "Pity one of them has to die."

Draco turned to Hermione who stared down at Leo, rubbing comforting circles on his back.

"Then kill me," he told the Death Eater, staring at him without any emotion.

"Draco…" Hermione whispered, but Draco remained staring into the sinister eyes of Jugson.

"You know, we would," Amycuss said, "But your mother forbids it." He laughed menacingly. "She's always ruined all the fun."

"However," Jugson said loudly, running a finger down the back of Leo's head. Hermione jerked Leo away from him. "He said nothing about the Mudblood or her son."

"I won't let you kill them," Draco said, taking a step forward. Macnair laughed and Draco's gaze moved from Jugson to Macnair.

"Oh, we're not killing them," he told him, amused. "You are."

Draco scoffed.

"And what makes you think I would do that?" he asked. Amycuss caught Hermione off guard and snatched Leo away from her. Leo began crying silently as he was handed off to Macnair, who raised his wand to the boy's forehead. Immediately, Jugson's wand pointed to Hermione. It happened so fast that Hermione didn't realize what had happened until she was staring at Jugson's wand mere inches away from her face.

"Because if you don't kill one of them," Amycuss told him, "We'll kill them both. And then, we'll kill you," he said, aiming his own wand at Draco.

The weight of his words hit Hermione the instant they left his mouth. The plan had been drastically changed by Narcissa, though Hermione had no idea why. Why would they only want one of them killed? It didn't make much sense.

"You're asking me to choose between Hermione and Leo?" Draco asked. "Why?"

"I would think that would be obvious to you by now, Draco," a woman's voice said and Narcissa walked into the room. She seemed completely calm and walked almost as if she was floating on air.

"Mother?" Draco questioned.

"You're a great asset to us," Narcissa said, ignoring Draco's confusion. "You could train Leo to become even greater than Lord Voldemort," she paused. "We know the boy has great power."

Draco took a step toward his mother.

"I'm not a Death Eater anymore," he told her. Narcissa smiled.

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," she told him. "Once you kill the Mudblood you will realize that."

Draco glanced at Hermione who had been shifting her gaze from Leo to Draco and back again.

"And if I choose Hermione?" he asked quietly. Narcissa shrugged.

"Then you will get rid of a threat to us," she said. "And we will free you and the Mudblood."

So, that was it, Hermione decided. The plan was for Hermione to die and Leo to become the next Lord Voldemort. Narcissa knew Hermione wouldn't let him choose her, and they knew Draco wouldn't be able to. She knew of the love between a parent and child.

Narcissa pulled out two wands and held one out to Draco who merely stared at it.

"They _will_ kill both of them," she told him. "You know that." To prove her point, both Jugson and Macnair pressed their wands to their respective captive's head. Narcissa moved the wand closer to Draco and his hand shook as he took it. Wand grasped tightly at his side, he looked at Hermione who had begun crying. She smiled feebly through her tears.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I understand." Tears were falling freely down her face and she felt the tip of Jugson's wand digging deeper into her temple. "You have to save Leo," she bit her lip as tears fell harder, trying to push them away. "You have to save our son."

Hermione's vision became blurry from her tears, but she could still vaguely make out a tear sliding down Draco's cheek as he shakily brought his wand level with her chest.

"I just found you again," he told her, his voice breaking. "I'm not supposed to lose you."

Hermione's lip quivered. She was afraid her voice wouldn't allow the words she wanted to speak form.

"H-he loves you," she whispered. "You'll be an amazing father." She smiled at him though inside she felt like she was breaking—not because she was close to death, but because she was going to take a piece of his soul with her. He didn't deserve to have his soul ripped apart; he was so much better than that--so much better than Voldemort.

Draco pressed his lips together as if in pain, though Hermione knew he was just repressing tears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the hand holding the wand shaking with more intensity. He looked into her deep brown eyes brimming with tears and she looked into his gray, pained ones. For a moment, Hermione saw nothing but gray—there was nothing else in the world but his eyes. She heard a whispered, "I love you," and then a jet of green light was coming towards her—slower than she thought it should've been. Draco was mere feet away from her, but it seemed as if it took minutes for the light to reach her. Then, in an instant, the world was gone.

* * *

**_Couldn't resist a cliffhanger._** **_The way it's going I'm thinking there will be two, possibly three, chapters left. I'm going to have to write fast though because in a week I'm leaving for school and won't be able to publish for a while._**

**_Thanks to everyone who continues to read this. I really have no idea why you do, but it makes me happy. I'm glad that somebody enjoys reading what I write for fun.  
_**


	16. Falling Inside the Black

Hermione's eyes were closed but she knew there was a bright light shining upon her. The inside of her eyelids were a bright, pale yellow—almost white—color. Cautiously she opened her eyes, fearing that the light would cause a substantial headache. She was surprised to find that light surrounded her so much that it was all she could see, yet she could look at it without pain. It was odd, really—as if she was lying in the middle of the sun. Only, she felt nothing. No heat, no cold, no pain, no joy…nothing. She looked down and realized that she was wearing her Hogwart's robes. Then, suddenly, the bright light faded and she was left lying in the middle of an aisle in the Hogwart's library. The bookshelves seemed much taller than she had remembered and towered menacingly over her.

She heard a faint, high-pitched giggle and sat up, looking around for the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming from the aisle in front of her, so she stood up and walked to peer around the corner. The aisle was empty.

Hermione saw something move out of the corner of her eye and her head snapped toward it. She saw a small, curly haired brunette girl running toward the back of the library.

"Wait!" Hermione called and was surprised when her voice echoed back at her from what sounded like four different directions. She ran after the girl, passing many more aisles of books as she did, but noticing nothing but the child. Suddenly, the little girl stopped in front of a table near the restricted section. It was then that she noticed the girl was also wearing Hogwart's robes. "Who are you?" Hermione asked, and when the girl turned around she gasped.

Hermione was staring at her eleven year old self, who simply smiled knowingly at her. _How is this possible? _Hermione wondered. She then remembered the jet of green light coming toward her and how the world had faded into darkness. "Am I dead?" she asked her younger self, who seemed not to hear her. Instead, she took a step away from the table, revealing a large crystal bowl that contained silvery substance. Hermione knew instantly what the substance was from Harry's many descriptions of it. Confused, she looked at her eleven year old self, who smiled and nodded.

Hermione approached the table and leaned over, staring into the crystal bowl. She held her breath and leaned her face into the silvery substance. She was surprised when she couldn't feel it, and even more surprised when she was sucked into it. It felt as if she was falling, but then suddenly, her feet were planted on solid ground.

Looking around she realized that she was standing in the middle of the potion's classroom as students were shuffling quickly towards the door. She was stunned when she watched a slightly younger version of herself walk right in front of her.

_"Oh, and Mrs. Granger?" a male voice asked and Hermione turned around to stare at Draco Malfoy in professor's robes. "Detention," he said. "8 o' clock."_

It was then—while Hermione watched her past self storm out and slam the door—that Hermione realized what was happening. She was regaining her memories—but why?

The scene suddenly changed and now she watched herself scrubbing cauldrons.

_"You missed a spot," Draco drawled. Hermione stopped scrubbing and glared at him._

_"Well if you want them perfect, do it yourself," she snapped. Draco looked as if the mere thought of getting his hands dirty offended him. Hermione threw down the brush she was using and stood up, heading for the door._

_"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Draco asked._

_"Away from you," Hermione answered without turning around._

The scene seemed to play several times before her eyes, only with differing insults and worse things to clean. The memories seem to be on fast-forward. What took hours to play out, took Hermione mere seconds to absorb. Then, there was one that was different, and time slowed down again.

_"What's your favorite color?" Hermione asked as she was cleaning off the chalkboard. Draco sat at his desk and looked up at her question, but didn't reply. "Mine is purple."_

_"And you think I care, why?" Draco asked. Hermione sat down her eraser._

_"Surely you have a favorite color," she said, ignoring his previous statement. "Everyone does."_

_Draco glanced up at the clock that hung on the opposite wall._

_"You can leave now," he told her. Hermione sighed and began walking towards the door. She reached her hand out to turn the doorknob when Draco's voice stopped her._

_"It's gray," he told her, annoyed. Hermione smiled slightly and walked out of the door as Draco scowled._

More detentions were like this, each time with Hermione learning something new about him. She told him stuff about herself as well, though he never asked. She always did the majority of the talking. Time sped up and then slowed once again as Hermione walked in, holding a package.

_"What's this?" Draco asked as she set the package on his desk._

_"It's a Christmas present, dimwit," she told him. He stared at her without blinking. "Well, open it," she said impatiently._

_He grabbed the package and slowly tore of the silver wrapping paper. Inside was a medium-sized black box. Hermione bit her lip as she watched him lift the lid off. Inside was a new, mint-condition marble chess set. Draco lifted it out of the box and sat it on the desk._

_"I know you lost yours a while ago, and I figured you might want another one to play," she said nervously. Draco just stared at it._

_"Christmas isn't for two weeks," he muttered._

_"I know," Hermione said quickly. "But I'm going home for the holidays and I wanted you to have it before I left…" she trailed off. "Anyways, I'll—uh—just be going."_

_She quickly retreated out of the door, leaving Draco still staring at the chess set._

The potion's room faded out and back in again and past-Hermione was now standing a few feet away from Draco.

_"How was your holiday?" Hermione asked. Draco just stared at her. "Mine was quite—"_

_Draco had suddenly stepped closer to her and crashed her lips to hers. She stood stunned for a moment and then her hand went to her wand. A jet of red light sent Draco flying backwards as Hermione ran out, looking quite terrified._

There was another sudden fast-forward of time.

_It seemed to be the next day and Hermione and Draco were acting like the kiss had never happened._ _Hermione sat at Draco's desk, organizing his papers, while Draco picked up books from student's desks._

_"McGonagall believes I've been giving you detention far too much," he commented. Hermione smiled._

_"I'd hardly call it detention anymore," she said. Draco turned._

_"I knew you'd fall for me," he drawled. "I'm impossible to resist." Hermione rolled her eyes._

_"You're a git," she told him. Draco piled up all the books on a single desk._

_"And you're a pain in the arse," he said, though Hermione knew he wasn't being serious. She stood up from the desk and walked over to him. Sensing she was behind him, he turned around._

_"Need something, Granger?" he drawled. Hermione stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Immediately, Draco wrapped his arms around her waist. He spun her around and walked forward in order to push her against the wall. Her hands grasped the hair at the nape of his neck as he ran his hands down her sides. Their lips never broke contact._

Hermione watched more similar encounters in the potions room along with conversations between herself and Draco. After what seemed like many weeks, Hermione was transported into what looked like a bedroom.

_"Nice outfit," Draco commented as Hermione walked into the bedroom. Her hair was bushier than usual, and her Hogwarts robes seemed to be on backwards._

_"It was your stupid assignment," Hermione said, dropping onto the bed and crossing her legs. "You know I hate potions."_

_Draco smirked._

_"I just like that there's one thing you aren't good at," he said. "It makes me feel superior."_

_Hermione scoffed at him._

_"As if your ego needed to get any bigger," she muttered. "I don't know why I love you." As soon as the words escaped her lips, her hand flew to cover her mouth. Her eyes widened in horror. "I mean—I—uh—" Draco walked over to her so fast that she seemed to barely register the fact that he had moved. Then, suddenly, his lips were upon hers. He walked her backwards over to the bed, and she fell with him on top of her._

_"Love you too, Granger," he whispered huskily when he broke away for air. Hermione smiled and then leaned up on her elbows to press her lips against his once more._

Hermione was transported to the Gryffindor girl's dormitories.

_"Ginny?" Hermione questioned softly. Ginny, who was lying in the bed beside her, turned her body to face Hermione. "I think I'm…" she trailed off for a moment. "Pregnant."_

_"Draco?" Ginny asked._

_"No, McLaggen," she said, rolling her eyes. "Of course Draco!"_

_"Are you sure?" Ginny asked. Hermione nodded._

_"I cast the spell to check," she said. Then, after a moment, "My wand turned blue."_

_Ginny smiled._

_"A boy," she stated. "That's great, Hermione!"_

_Hermione rolled over to stare at the underside of the top bunk._

_"Yeah," she said. "I just hope Draco feels the same way."_

The image of herself faded and Hermione was once again in the bedroom she assumed was Draco's.

_"My father is out of Azkaban," Draco said. He was staring out the window while Hermione sat on the bed. "He wants me to join him in gathering the remaining Death Eaters."_

_"You're not going, of course?" Hermione asked. Draco glanced back at her, and then turned back to the window. He remained silent. "You are?" Hermione asked incredulously._

_"He's my father," Draco stated harshly. "I have an obligation to him as his son."_

_"And what about me?" Hermione demanded, standing up. "I imagine your father wouldn't approve of us."_

_"There won't be anymore us," Draco said softly. Tears began surfacing in Hermione's eyes. She looked down at her stomach as if she could see their unborn child._

_"I don't believe this," she whispered. Then, her eyes narrowed and her voice rose in volume. "What happened to' I want to change'?" she demanded. "What happened to 'I don't want to be a Death Eater'?" She walked over to stand beside him. "Were you lying when you said you loved me?" she whispered. Draco turned around swiftly, placing his hands on both of her arms._

_"I would never lie to you," he told her. He dropped his hands to his sides. "But this isn't a choice," he said. "I have to go to protect you."_

_Hermione shoved him backwards and his back hit the wall._

_"I don't need you to protect me!" she said. "I need you to be here!"_

_Draco walked towards her and there were unshed tears in his eyes._

_"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing her on the forehead. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, he was gone._

Hermione watched her past self fall to her knees, crying. There was more haze, and then she was in the prefects' bathroom.

_"Hermione, this is crazy," Ginny said, watching Hermione drop ingredients into a cauldron. "You don't have to do this."_

_"You don't understand," Hermione said. Tears fell from her face as she leaned over the cauldron. "I can't stand hurting like this anymore. I don't think I can go on without him." Ginny sat beside Hermione on the cold floor and placed a hand on her back. "This is the only way," Hermione whispered. She turned her face to Ginny as she stirred the potion. "Promise me you'll look after my son," she said. "And promise me that you'll never speak of Draco again."_

_Ginny sighed and looked down, unable to look Hermione in the eyes._

_"I promise," she whispered. She stared at the potion turning from purple, to green, and then finally a pale pink. "Have you thought of a name for him yet?" Ginny asked. Hermione smiled sadly._

_"Leo," she said._

_"Like the constellation?" Ginny asked, obviously spotting the similarity with Draco's name. Hermione made a murmur of confirmation and nodded her head._

The remainder of Hermione's memories sped by as if she was watching a slide-slow of her life on the fastest possible speed. She saw herself giving birth to Leo in a Muggle hospital, watched as her dilapidated self handed Leo to her bewildered parents. She watched as she wrote in her leather-bound book and scribbled a letter to Draco, and then watched as an owl took it away. Then, the pale pink potion was being drunk and Hermione felt herself being pulled upward by some unseen force.

Suddenly, she was once again standing over the crystal bowl that contained the silvery substance. This time, however, the bowl was not sitting on the table. Instead, the little girl—Hermione, at age eleven—held it in her delicate hands. She smiled and then splashed the contents of the bowl onto Hermione. Hermione watched incredulously as the substance seemed to seep into her skin. She felt her eyes close as she slipped into unconsciousness—or maybe reality, she didn't know—and then for the second time, she saw nothing but black.

* * *

**_This chapter took forever to write. I worked on it for hours._**

**_I would've included more detailed memories, but since I'm planning on writing a prequel I didn't want to give everything away._**

**_Anyway...I hope you liked it :)  
_**


	17. A Second Chance

Feeling returned all too quickly for Hermione. The back of her head was pounding and the rest of her body felt weak and cold. The coldness was probably due to the fact that she was lying on marble floor, but her insides felt cold too. She felt almost as if she was surrounded by Dementors. Had she really died and then came back to life? It didn't seem very possible, though she knew that it had happened to Harry. But the circumstances of Harry's death and hers were entirely different. She knew of no reason why she shouldn't have been killed.

She felt something lightly touch her arm at the same time a tear that didn't belong to her fell on her right cheek. However hard she tried, however, she could neither open her eyes nor move any part of her body.

"Draco?" Narcissa's voice asked softly.

"What happened?" Draco's voice asked, thick with tears. "Why are they all dead?" Another cold tear fell on Hermione's face. "Why didn't _we_ die?" he demanded, raising his voice.

"Mommy?" Hermione heard Leo ask. It was then that she realized his small hand was what was touching her arm. Then, she felt his weight as he climbed up and sat on her stomach.

"The girl isn't dead," Narcissa said. "She will awake in a moment."

"What?" Draco asked. "But I—I cast the spell. I saw her die."

"You saw the spell hit her—you saw her go into unconsciousness," Narcissa said. "You did not, however, see her die."

Hermione coughed involuntarily and it was if her entire body was suddenly mobilized. Her eyelids were free to open—which they did—and she pushed herself up on her elbows. Leo giggled and hopped up off of her, walking over to Draco who sat on his knees beside Hermione. His face and attention, however, were currently turned to Narcissa.

"I got my memories back," Hermione said breathlessly, and Draco turned to her—his tear-stained face an expression of awe. "I remember everything."

"I thought I lost you," he whispered. He then intertwined her fingers with his own. "I thought I—" he couldn't continue.

"But you didn't," Hermione said, smiling. "I'm right here and...I love you," she smiled wider. "That was the secret," she said, her face glowing. "In order for me to remember I had to fall in love with you again." She sat up completely and shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe I didn't figure it out before!"

Her triumph at solving the puzzle had stopped her from noticing the bodies on the floor. However, she now suddenly noticed all three cloaked figures lying quite near to her.

"What—happened?" she whispered, standing up. The last time she had seen the Death Eaters they had been angry and very much alive.

"I don't know," Draco said, standing up as well. "One moment you were falling, and the next so were we," he looked around at the Death Eaters. "The four of us were knocked unconscious, but they were killed," he looked down. "I thought you died with them," he breathed and she took his hand, squeezing it gently. Leo waddled over to her and held up his arms. Hermione leaned down and picked him up, and then sat him on her right hip.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered and kissed his forehead. Draco lightly touched the top of his son's head with his hand.

"I find it interesting that you haven't figured everything out yourself, Miss Granger," Narcissa said. "After all, the boy who lived is your best friend, is he not?"

Hermione looked at her in confusion.

"Well, yes…" she said, obviously not seeing any connection whatsoever between Harry and their current situation.

"Why, Miss Granger, did Harry Potter _not_ die the day Lord Voldemort tried to kill him?" she asked.

"His mother sacrificed herself for him," Hermione replied, still not understanding. "Her love protected him."

"And your sacrifice is what protected the boy," she said looking at the small child in Hermione's arms. "It is why he lives."

"But I hit Hermione," Draco protested. "Not Leo."

"The spell was intended for Miss Granger, but it hit all of us," Narcissa said. Hermione was now more confused than ever—and looking at Draco's expression so was he. Leo, however, was oblivious and currently quite entertained simply staring at the chandelier. He was opening and closing his fist as if he could snatch the gold adornment right out of the ceiling.

"The only person sacrificing themselves was Hermione," said Draco. "Why the hell am I alive?" he demanded. "I didn't even try to save her—I tried to kill her instead!"

"You only did what I asked," Hermione whispered. "And you did save me," she looked into his eyes, silently assuring him that she spoke the truth.

"You were willing to sacrifice a part of your soul for me," she said. Hermione then turned to Narcissa. "That's correct, isn't it?" she asked. Narcissa nodded, but Draco still seemed not to understand. Hermione turned to him.

"Killing another person rips apart your soul," she explained. "So you see—you sacrificed a part of you for me."

Draco nodded and Hermione smiled softly at him.

"If this is all true," he turned to his mother. "Why weren't you killed?"

"If we were dealing with an instance of simple sacrifice, I would've been," she said. "But we're dealing with something even greater than sacrifice."

"Love," Hermione whispered, looking down at Leo and then into the deep gray eyes of Draco.

"Love triumphs over death," Narcissa said. "And the killing curse is fueled by hate," she stared directly at Hermione. "When the curse hit you, it experienced more love—for both Leo and Draco—than it could handle. So, not knowing what to do, it rebounded and exploded, hitting everyone in the room," she turned her head toward the fallen Death Eaters. "Death took what was familiar to it," she said. "It took the people who knew hate instead of love."

"You knew this," Draco said. "You knew this would happen all along, didn't you?"

Narcissa nodded.

"I loved your father," she told him solemnly. "But I never once wished to become him." She smiled as she watched Leo reach for Draco, who picked him up and held him in his arms. "I'm glad to see that you haven't followed in Lucius's footsteps either."

Hermione noticed that Narcissa couldn't take her gaze away from Leo.

"Would you like to hold him?" she asked softly. Narcissa looked surprised and held her hand over her chest.

"Me?" she asked. "I couldn't—I'm sure I scare him."

Hermione smiled.

"Don't be silly," she said. She nodded to Draco who walked over and gingerly placed Leo in her arms. At first, Narcissa looked uncomfortable, but she soon relaxed and smiled slightly as Leo playfully tugged at her hair.

After handing Leo to Narcissa, Draco returned to Hermione.

"So, you remember everything, huh?" he asked, smirking. "Even the night Leo was created?"

Hermione playfully slapped him on the shoulder.

"Git," she said. He caught her hand before she could lower it to her side and held it in his.

"What do you think about giving us a second chance?" he asked.

"No secrets?" Hermione asked. "And we can tell everyone?" Draco nodded and Hermione threw her arms around his neck.

"I would love to," she said when she pulled away. Draco turned to look at his mother and Leo.

"Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have a son," Draco said. "That should go over well."

Hermione laughed.

"You forgot that he's also the most powerful wizard in the world," she said, smiling. Draco smirked.

"We're his parents," he said. "What else would you expect?"

* * *

_**There will be an epilogue, so one more chapter.**_

_**Yes, this chapter was short and I am incredibly sorry but I have almost zero free time. Plus school starts soon and I won't be able to write, and I want to finish this before then. I think I owe it to my readers and especially the ones who review. I love you guys :)  
**_


	18. Epilogue

A medium-built brown haired wizard and his fiancée, a fiery-tempered red-haired witch, were walking through a black gate that led to a large white manor.

"Uncle Harry!" a small blond boy yelled, running across the green lawn towards the couple. He hugged the man's knees, and then turned to the woman. "I missed you too, Aunt Ginny!" he said. She ruffled his hair.

"Happy Birthday, Leo," she said. "Where's your mom and dad?"

Leo grinned.

"They're inside getting my cake," he said. "Dad wanted to conjure one, but Mum insisted she bake it."

Harry laughed. He remembered Hermione's cooking.

"Make sure you tell her it's good, even if it isn't," he whispered. Leo managed to imitate his father's signature smirk.

"Dad's already made me promise," he said.

"Harry!" The heard a woman's voice yell and they all turned towards Hermione who—with Draco's help—was carrying a massive chocolate cake with five, unlit green candles. They carefully sat it down on a white table that had been set up on the lawn with the sole purpose of displaying the cake. When they finished, they walked over to Harry, Ginny, and Leo. Hermione hugged Harry and then Ginny.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she said. "Especially you, Harry. It's been ages." Harry ran his fingers through his incredibly unkempt hair.

"Yeah," he said. "Sorry about that," he apologized then turned to Draco. "How've you been, Malfoy?" he asked politely, but his voice was strained.

"You know, that could mean me or Leo as well," Hermione said. "Would it kill you to refer to each other by your first names?"

"Yes," Draco replied, smirking. "It would." Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. Draco wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead.

Leo tugged on Draco's right pant leg.

"Is it time for cake yet?" he asked. Hermione laughed.

"It's _your_ birthday," she told him. "So I guess it is."

He ran over to the table and sat in the chair closest to the cake. The four adults then sat in the remaining chairs. One, however, remained empty. Hermione stared at the gate and bit her lip while Draco stared at her, expressionless.

"Are you watching?" Leo asked his mother, who turned to face him. Leo squeezed his eyes shut and in an instant, all five candles were lit. Hermione shook her head in disbelief, just as she always had when Leo displayed the strength of his power. When Leo opened his eyes, he was smiling triumphantly.

Ginny began the singing.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday…"

Ginny's voice trailed off in Hermione's mind as she noticed a red head figure walking through the gate. She turned to Draco, who nodded, though he seemed less than pleased about it. The singing continued and her son blew out his candles as she made her way over to the newcomer.

"Ron," she whispered. Ron attempted to smile.

"I got your invitation," he replied. Hermione nodded.

"I didn't think you'd come," she said. "You haven't come to the last three."

"Yeah," Ron muttered, lowering his head. "Malfoy finally talked some sense into me."

Hermione turned towards the party, watching Draco as he dipped his finger in chocolate icing and smeared it on Leo's cheek.

"Draco…" she whispered. "Talked to you?" she asked incredulously. Ron nodded.

"He made me see how big of a git I've been," he said. "Pretty funny, isn't it?—Malfoy talking sense into me, I mean."

"Funny…" Hermione muttered weakly. She then cleared her throat. "Well, I'm glad you came." She told him, and then proceeded to gesture to the table with her hand. "Would you like some cake?"

Ron grinned.

"You know you don't have to ask," he told her and the two of them walked back to the table. Hermione took her previous seat beside Draco and Ron sat in the empty chair.

Hermione leaned over to whisper in Draco's ear.

"You never cease to amaze me," she said and Draco smirked as she pressed her lips gently to his.

* * *

**_the end!_**

**_Short epilogue, yes, but really, I was already done with the story._**

**_To all my reviewers - you have been absolutely amazing! Everytime I read a new review I smile._**

**_Thanks for reading, everyone!  
_**


	19. Author's Note

I know it's been a while, but I started a new story chronicling the back-story to Forget to Remember.

If you loved this story, please read "**Encapture**." Reviews are extremely appreciated!


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